All they could do was to remain quiet, trusting to Providence that they would not be discovered.
Soon the Negritos were directly opposite to where the pair were in hiding. Walter was so agitated he was afraid they would hear the pumping of his heart. Each boy clutched the hand of the other in a death-like grip. The natives came to a halt within a rod of them.
Not a word of what was said could either Walter or Si understand, nor did they see the Negritos, although the glare of the torches was plainly visible over their heads, throwing fantastic shadows over the foliage of the jungle behind them. The natives were holding a consultation, and one leaned against the very rocks the youths had mounted so short a time before. Walter and Si were afraid the fellow would climb up for a view of the locality, and prepared to make a last run, if their legs would carry them, but the necessity for this did not arise. The natives moved on, and the boys were left to themselves.
"Gone," whispered Walter, as the footsteps and the glare of the torches died away in the distance. "Thank God!"
"If only they don't come back," came from the
