Bob wished to ask where he was being taken, but was given no chance to do so. The natives bound his hands behind him, and then he was told by Farvel to march.
As there was nothing to be gained just then by resisting, poor Bob marched along, through the jungle and across several tiny mountain streams.
Presently they reached a rough shelter built of tree branches and palm leaves, and here they halted.
The boy was tied to a tree, hands and feet, the natives using some tough vines for that purpose. Then he was searched, and his pistol and pocketknife were taken from him.
"If I ungag you, will you promise to make no outcry?" asked Joseph Farvel.
As Bob was nearly smothered, he nodded his head, whereupon the obnoxious gag was quickly removed.
"What do you mean by handling me in this fashion?" demanded the youth, as soon as he could speak.
"Now don't get on a high horse, or it will be the worse for you," replied Farvel, bitterly.
"I ask you a direct question and I expect a direct answer," went on Bob, indignantly.
"I brought you here to get some information from you, young man."
