The old chief listened amazed, but like Jeekie asked Alan why he had not killed the Mungana, who would have killed him.
Alan, who was in no mood for long explanations, answered that he had kept him with them because he might be useful.
"Yes, yes, friend, I see," exclaimed the old cannibal, "although he is so thin he will always make a meal or two at a pinch.

Truly white men are wise and provident.

Like the ants, you take thought for the morrow." As soon as they had swallowed their food they started all together, for although Alan pointed out to Fahni that he might be safer apart, the old chief who had a real affection for him, would not be persuaded to leave him.
"Let us live or die together," he said.
Now Jeekie, abandoning the main road, led them up a stream, walking in the water so that their footsteps might leave no trace, and thus away into the barren mountains which rose between them and the great swamp.
On the crest of these mountains Alan turned and looked back towards Bonsa Town.

There far across the fertile valley was the hateful, river-encircled place.

There fell the great cataract in the roar of which he had lived for so many weeks.