"Bosh!" said Tom, to test him. "You have dago on the brain, I'm afraid."
"White man all say bosh!" returned the boy. "No bosh! no bosh! Dago man in canoe all same!"
Again the canoe vanished, and both observers watched tensely for its reappearance. Twenty minutes elapsed; then it glided into view again. It was now no more than a mile away.
"Sah, see!" cried Mbutu. "Dago sure nuff."
"You are right, Mbutu. We are being followed. We needn't get flustered, but we must start at once, and eat our breakfast as we go."
Hurrying down the hill, he ordered the crew on board, and loosed the rope. In another minute the canoe was bounding like a racer rapidly up-stream.
"The dago has not yet seen us, at any rate," said Tom, "and we may get clear away without being observed at all if the men put their backs into it."
"No, sah! Birds fly up; tell dago canoe in front. Dago know all same."
"Then it's a question of speed, eh? Well, we've the lighter canoe; crew four and passengers two. He has the heavier canoe; crew eight and passenger one. We shall get through where he would stick in the mud; though the water seems to have a fair depth here, worse luck. Well, Mbutu, we're not going to be overhauled; tell the men there's kiboko after them; that'll make them hurry."
The crew paddled away swiftly, and began to sing. Tom was relieved to find that words and tune were changed at last, but after a few bars he peremptorily stopped them.
"The dago will hear them," he said, "and it will be just as well for us not to let him know our whereabouts. Tell them another story, Mbutu."
Tom sat rigidly in the stern, wondering how the Portuguese had got on their track. The course of events since he had been turned back by Tom's crew twenty-four hours before was as follows. He had paddled down-stream till he reached the place where Tom had embarked, and then sent one of his men to the village to find out what was going on there. The man returned, bringing the news that the white man had left. Furious at being so easily outwitted, the Portuguese had then gone up himself, seized the first negro he came upon, and demanded information about Tom's route. This the negro, obeying the instructions of his chief, given to the whole village, at first refused; whereupon the Portuguese tied him to a tree and thrashed him till the poor wretch, in sheer desperation, told all he knew. Without wasting another moment the Portuguese started in pursuit, enraged at having lost five hours through so simple a trick. Pressing his men, he arrived within five miles of Tom before dark, and starting again before sunrise, he had by seven o'clock crept up to within a mile of his quarry, as Tom had fortunately discovered.