Then they started, the Mungana following them.  Jeekie paused and waved him off, but the poor wretch still came on, whereon Jeekie produced the big, crooked knife, Mungana’s own knife.

“What are you going to do,” said Alan, awaking to the situation.

“Cut off head of that cocktail man, Major, and so save him lot of trouble.  Also we got no grub, and if we find any he want eat a lot.  Chop what do for two p’raps, make very short commons for three.  Also he might play dirty trick, so much best dead.”

“Nonsense,” said Alan sternly; “let the poor devil come along if he likes.  One good turn deserves another.”

“Just so, Major; that hello-swello want cut our throats, so I want cut his—­one good turn deserve another, as wise king say in Book, when he give half baby to woman what wouldn’t have it.  Well, so be, Major, specially as it no matter, for he not stop with us long.”

“You mean that he will run away, Jeekie?”

“Oh! no, he not run away, he in too blue funk for that.  But something run away with him, because he ought die to-morrow night.  Oh! yes, you see, you see, and Jeekie hope that something not run away with you too, Major, because you ought be married at same time.”

“Hope not, I am sure,” answered Alan, and bethinking him of Big Bonsa wallowing and screaming on the water and bleeding out white blood, he shivered a little.

By this time, advancing at a trot, the Mungana running after them like a dog, they had entered the bush pierced with a few wandering paths.  Along these paths they sped for hour after hour, Jeekie leading them without a moment’s hesitation.  They met no man and heard nothing, except occasional weird sounds which Alan put down to wild beasts, but Jeekie and the Mungana said were produced by ghosts.  Indeed it appeared that all this jungle was supposed to be haunted, and no Asiki would enter it at night, or unless he were very bold and protected by many charms, by day either.  Therefore it was an excellent place for fugitives who sorely needed a good start.

At length the day began to dawn just as they reached the main road where it crossed the hills, whence on his journey thither Alan had his first view of Bonsa Town.  Peering from the edge of the bush, they perceived a fire burning near the road and round it five or six men, who seemed to be asleep.  Their first thought was to avoid them, but the Mungana, creeping up to Alan, for Jeekie he would not approach, whispered: 

“Not Asiki, Ogula chief and slaves who left Bonsa Town yesterday.”

They crept nearer the fire and saw that this was so.  Then rejoicing exceedingly, they awoke the old chief, Fahni, who at first thought they must be spirits.  But when he recognized Alan, he flung himself on his knees and kissed his hand, because to him he owed his liberty.

“No time for all that, Fahni,” said Alan.  “Give us food.”

Now of this as it chanced there was plenty, since by the Asika’s orders the slaves had been laden with as much as they could carry.  They ate of it ravenously, and while they ate, told Fahni something of the story of their escape.  The old chief listened amazed, but like Jeekie asked Alan why he had not killed the Mungana, who would have killed him.