A pair of warm lips at my ear made me start again.
"Dey all 'tupid, dem Injum. I know dey nebber tink we get up tree.
Think we run home. All gone. Come down."
"No, no; it is not safe," I whispered.
"Yes; all gone dat way. We go oder."
He was already descending almost as rapidly as a monkey, and I followed
as fast as I could, fully expecting to be seized; but all was silent,
and the fire had sunk quite low as we bent down and crept along by the
edge of the opening, and directly after were well in the shelter and
darkness of the trees, with the fire behind only making its presence
known by a dull glow.
"Where are you going?" I whispered at last.
"Get away from Injum. Come!"
He said this shortly, and I began thinking that it was our wisest course
to get right away, and, as soon as we could find a spot at daybreak,
cross to the other side, and then try to thread our way back home. But
a curiously dull, deadening feeling came over me, as I felt that the
Indians must now get there first, and that we should be too late to give
the alarm.