“So we had to wait, and it was not a pleasant time for me.  But, thank goodness, you are safe—­aye, and safe, thanks to your own pluck.”

“Dick did it all,” said Venning.  “I seemed to get dizzy all at once.”

“I am not surprised,” said Mr. Hume, looking grave; “and I think we ought to go back.  The air is too heavy.”

“After a good sleep I shall feel better,” said Venning.

“It would be too bad to turn back.”

“It would be too bad if you fell ill.”

“What do you say, Muata?”

Muata lifted his hand.  “Those who would cross the forest must be of the forest.  Who are the people of the forest?  Not those who live in the plains.  Even the river-people are afraid to go far in.  What are the creatures of the forest?  They are those born among the trees, and those who dwell in the open seldom enter into the darkness and the quiet of the wood.”

“Yet,” said Compton, “there are people of the forest, and animals also, and they live.”  “For them are the trees.”

“But when they go about they must travel under the trees.”

“That is your word,” said the chief.  “But it must be so.”

“Muata is right,” said Mr. Hume.  “We have only entered the fringe, and already we are different people.  The lungs cry for pure air.”

“Yet there is a way,” said Muata; and his eyes fell upon the tawny hide of the tree-lion.  “How, chief?”

“On top of the trees, not under!” cried Venning, who had seen that the chief was working up to some point.

Muata spread out his fingers gravely.  “Even so,” he said.  “There are paths on the tree-tops known to the little people, and made by them.  Maybe they will let us travel also by them.”

The others stared at the chief in amazement; and even Venning, in spite of his intelligent anticipation, was too surprised to speak.

“There you can look upon the sky; there the wind blows fresh.”

They looked up at the roof of branches, and then around into the sombre aisles.

“And where are the little people?” Muata smiled.  “Who knows?  They come like shadows, and like shadows they go.  Even now they may be near watching to see if we are friends or enemies.”

“You would not tell us an idle tale, chief.  Let us hear what is in your mind.”

“Stay here, my friends, while I seek the little men.  Maybe, if I find them, they will put us on our way; but if I fail, then my word is that you go back to the river, lest the sickness of the woods come upon you.”

“We will wait; but I have seen no signs of the little men.  They may be far and difficult to find.”

“They have watched us all the way,” said Muata, calmly; “and it was in my heart that they had fallen upon the young chiefs in the night.”

“Glad we didn’t know,” said Compton, thoughtfully.