"Leave 'em."

Wilson grinned at Hanson. "I'll tell you this, that wasn't a bad punch. I've seen some good ones, and that one wasn't bad."

"Yeah, well. I'm flattered," Hanson said.

"You go on and be tough," Wilson said. "It's no matter to me, but it was still a good punch."

Hanson didn't need a Ph.D. to size up these men, and he knew that nothing he might say would change things. Wilson seemed reluctant to kill them, but in a sense, he was doing just that, leaving them unarmed in the jungle. For them to make it out of this area of Africa, to safety, more than a bit of luck would have to be with them. Perhaps, the sentence Cannon wanted to pass would have been the best. At least death would have been immediate.

A few minutes later, Hanson and Jean stood side by side, a container of water and food at their feet, watching their stolen safari disappearing into the jungle.

"The beasts," Jean said.

"You malign the beasts." said Hanson.

After a moment of silence, Jean softly, "There was one bright in the whole affair."

Hanson stared at her. "And what could that be?"

"The big, black man was right. That was one pretty right you landed, Dad." It was the one bright spot in the whole, hideous affair."

Hanson rubbed his scraped knuckles. "Felt good, too," he said. "But I got to tell you, that slap you landed wasn't second-rate either. You rattled that ole boy's teeth."

"Good." Jean said.

Chapter 2

FOUR DAYS PASSED. The Hansons soon ran out of their meaner rations, and had eaten some fruit and nuts, such as they had seen the monkeys eat with evident impunity. But they were half-starved. The future looked grim. They 'had trekked back in the direction from which they had come, but covered little distance due to their failing strength and the delays necessitated by the need for building platforms in the trees to escape the lions who prowled incessantly at night. Hanson couldn't help but think one change of the wind might carry their scent below, and if it did, the lions might easily climb to their not-so-elevated height and take them for dinner. Certainly a leopard might. It was not a thought that allowed deep, comfortable sleep.

It was day now, however, and Hanson's spirits were lifted somewhat, though they weren't the sort of spirits one might proudly write home about. He was sitting on a fallen log by Jean, slapping at biting insects, considering all this. They had found it necessary to rest more often as they seemed to tire more easily each mile.

"I was a stupid fool to bring you along," Hanson said. "It was dangerous if we hadn't met up with those thieving bastards. We may never get out of here."

"Sure, we will," Jean said. "And don't blame yourself. I made you miserable until you gave in. I knew the dangers as well as you. And there's Hunt and Small.