Binu Charley, however, was at the fore, and led the way onward into the rolling foothills, following the trail made by Tudor and his men weeks before.

That night they camped well into the hills and deep in the tropic jungle.

The third day found them on the run-ways of the bushmen--narrow paths that compelled single file and that turned and twisted with endless convolutions through the dense undergrowth.

For the most part it was a silent forest, lush and dank, where only occasionally a wood-pigeon cooed or snow-white cockatoos laughed harshly in laborious flight.
Here, in the mid-morning, the first casualty occurred.

Binu Charley had dropped behind for a time, and Koogoo, the Poonga-Poonga man who had boasted that he would eat the bushmen, was in the lead.