"Him don't lead to de ribber dare,"
he said. "But I dun think somet'ing of him."
"And what do you think?" asked Tom, from his seat on Aleck's
back.
"I t'ink he go to de kolobo."
"And what is the kolobo?" asked Sam with interest.
"De kolobo old place on ribber-place where de white soldiers shoot
from big fort-house."
"A fort!" cried Tom. "But would the authorities allow, them to go
there?"
"No soldiers dare now -- leave kolobo years ago. Place most
tumble down now. But good place fo' robbers."
"I see. Well, follow the trail as best you can -- and we'll see
what we will see."
"And let us get along just as fast as we can," added Sam.
On they went through a forest that in spots was so thick they
could scarcely pass. The jungle contained every kind of tropical
growth, including ferns, which were beautiful beyond description,
and tiny vines so wiry that they cut like a knife.
"This is tough," remarked Sam. "But I suppose it doesn't hold a
candle to what is beyond."
"Werry bad further on," answered Cujo. "See, here am de trail,"
and he pointed it out.
Several miles were covered, when they came to a halt in order to
rest and to give Aleck a let up in carrying Tom. The youth now
declared his foot felt much better and hobbled along for some
distance by leaning on Sam's shoulder.
Presently they were startled by hearing a cry from a distance.
They listened intently, then Cujo held up his hand.
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