"
Cujo now went off on another scout and did not return until the
sun was setting. Again he was full of smiles.
"I can show you a way up de rocks," he said. "We can get to the
walls of um fort, as you call um, without being seen."
Soon night was upon them, for in the tropics there is rarely any
twilight. Tom now declared himself able to walk once more, and
they moved off silently, like so many shadows, beside the swamp
and then over a fallen palm to where a series of rocks, led up to
the cliff proper.
"Sh-ah!" came presently from Cujo. "Man ahead!"
They came to a halt, and through the gloom saw a solitary figure
sitting on a rock. The sentinel held a gun over his knees and was
smoking a cigarette.
"If he sees us he will give the alarm," whispered Tom. "Can't we
capture him without making a noise?"
"Dat's de talk," returned Aleck. "Cujo, let us dun try dat
trick."
Cujo nodded. "Urn boys stay here," he said. "Cujo fix dat
feller!"
And off he crawled through the wet grass, taking a circuitous
route which brought him up on the sentinel's left.
Presently the sentinel started to rise. As he did so Cujo leaped
from the grass and threw him to the earth. Then a long knife
flashed in the air. "No speak, or um diet" came softly; but, the
Frenchman realized that the African meant what he said.
"I will be silent!" he growled, in the language of the African.
"Don't -- don't choke me."
Cujo let out a low whistle, which the others rightly guessed was a
signal for them to come up.
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