There was little dancing in the village, that night, and after Intamo had completed his ceremony, the blacks commenced to retire to their huts and soon the village street was deserted. All the fires were banked with the exception of one. The village was quite dark.

The moment was approaching when the boys could make their long deferred attempt to escape. In low whispers they had been discussing their plans with Ukundo, all the evening. Now it was only a matter of waiting until they felt sure that the entire village was asleep.

They had distributed the weapons brought them by Paabu, and the feel of them in their hands seemed to impart a new courage and almost to insure the success of their venture.

"Golly!" said Dick, presently. "Don't you suppose they're asleep yet?"

"Better wait a little longer," counselled Doc. "This is our only chance and we just can't fail."

At that moment they saw a figure emerge from one of the huts and come toward them.

"There!" said Doc. "What did I tell you?"

The figure approached at a brisk walk and the three hid their weapons as best they could, putting them on the ground and squatting in front of them, but keeping them within reach; for there was something sinister about this silent figure, advancing through the sleeping village. The sickly light of a single dying camp fire dimly outlined the approaching figure, which the waiting captives could see was that of a large warrior in whose right hand swung a short, heavy knobkerrie.

Who could it be? What was his mission in the dead of night?

He was almost upon them before he perceived them, huddled just outside the entrance of their hut; his surprise at seeing them there was evident, for he stopped suddenly with an angry grunt.

"Why are you not in your hut?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

"Which is the white boy witch-doctor? I would speak with him."

It was Intamo. The three recognized him simultaneously and knew why he had come and why he carried the knobkerrie.

"I am he," replied Doc. "What do you want of me?"

The only answer that Intamo made was to leap forward with raised bludgeon. With a cry of horror, Dick jumped to his feet and sprang between Intamo and his intended victim. With his short spear grasped in both hands and held horizontally before him and above his head he sought to break the force of Itamo's wicked blow. The knobkerrie crashed upon the stout wood of the spear haft and glanced to one side. But Intamo with the sweep of a mighty arm brushed the lad aside and swung his club again.

It was at this instant that a small, pantherlike figure, springing with the agility and ferocity of one of the great jungle eats, launched itself full upon the breast of Intamo, hurling the witch-doctor to the ground. Twice a muscular arm rose and fell; twice a dull blade gleamed for an instant in the fitful firelight, then Ukundo arose from the prostrate form, but Intamo lay very still where he had fallen.

"Good old Ukundo!" whispered Dick in a broken voice that choked with a sob, for he knew that Doc had been very near to death.

"Each of you has saved my life," said Doc, "and--O, gee!--I don't know what to say!"

"Don't say anything," advised Dick. "Anyway, we aren't out of this mess yet."

"Now we better go," said Ukundo. "Have you made strong medicine against the jungle demons?"

"Very strong," replied Doc. "You have seen that my medicine is stronger than Intamo's, for he came here to kill me and instead it was he who was killed."

"Yes," admitted Ukundo, "I saw!"

As they had previously planned, the three crept stealthily along the rear of the village huts, keeping dose to the palisade. Dick led, Ukundo followed, and then Doc. They had to move very silently lest they awaken some of the numerous village curs, whose yapping might easily arouse the entire village. And so they moved forward very slowly, often just a few yards at a time, when they would lie quietly for several minutes. It was slow, nerve-wracking work. The hut in which Bulala was confined seemed miles away, though in fact it was but a few hundred feet. At last, however, after what seemed an eternity, they reached it and while the boys waited behind the hut, Ukundo crept to the front and crawled inside.

Again there was a long, long wait. The interminable minutes dragged slowly by. Not a sound came to their ears from the interior of the hut for what seemed ages, and then, at last, they heard a faint rustling within. A few minutes later Ukundo and Bulala crept to their sides. Bulala was almost overcome by emotion, so certain had he been that nothing could save him from the horrible fate that awaited him on the morrow; but his words of gratitude were silenced and a moment later the four were creeping toward the village gates.

Here they met their serious obstacle. The gates were secured by chains through which was fastened an old time padlock, such as slavers once used to secure the chains to the necks of their poor victims.