Ranni spoke to the guide in front. The man laughed and made some sort of quick answer.

“He says that Mafumu knows his forest as an ant knows its own anthill,” translated Ranni. “He says, too, that he would not care at all if Mafumu were eaten by a crocodile or caught by a leopard. He doesn’t seem at all fond of his small nephew, does he?”

“I think he’s a horrid man,” said Peggy. “My goodness — are there leopards about?”

“Well, you needn’t worry even if there are,” said Ranni. “Pilescu and I have guns, and our leader has plenty of spears ready.”

It was cool and dark in the forest and the little company were able to go for a long way without resting, twisting and turning through the trees. Frogs croaked somewhere, and birds called harshly. Jack spotted some brightly coloured parrots, and there were some rather queer squirrel-like creatures that hopped from branch to branch. The monkeys were most interested in the children, and a little crowd of them swung through the trees, following the company for quite a long way.

At last the forest came to an end. The trees became fewer, and the sun shone between, making golden freckles on the ground that danced and moved as the trees waved their branches.

“Well, that couldn’t have been a very big forest if it only took us such a short time to go through,” said Mike.

“It is really a very big one,” said Pilescu. “But we have only gone through a corner of it. If we went deeper into it we should not be able to get along. We should have to take axes and knives to cut our way through.”

The children were still worried about Mafumu, but he suddenly appeared again, bent nearly double under his old load and carrying a new load of the juicy-looking yellow fruit. He gave some to each child, grinning cheerfully.

“Oh, thanks awfully,” said Mike. “Golly, this is just what I wanted — I was thirsty! This fruit melts in my mouth. Thanks awfully, Mafumu.”

“Thanksawfully, shutup,” said the little boy in delight.

“I think we’ll all have a rest here,” said Pilescu. “The sun is still high in the sky and we can’t walk any further for it will be too hot once we are out of the forest. We will go on again when the sun is lower.”

Nobody felt very hungry, for they were all so hot. Mafumu found some other kind of fruit for everybody, not nearly so nice, but still, very juicy and sweet. His uncle ate no fruit, but took something from a pouch and chewed that.

All the children fell asleep in the noonday sun except Mafumu. He squatted down beside Jack and watched the boy closely. Jack grinned at him and even when he slept Mafumu stayed by his side.

The grown-ups sat talking quietly together. Ranni looked round at the sleeping company. “The children have done well today,” he said to Pilescu. “They must have a good night’s rest tonight as well, for tomorrow we must climb high.”

“I wish that this adventure was over, and not just beginning,” said Pilescu uneasily, fanning Paul’s hot face with a spray of leaves. The boy was so sound asleep that he felt nothing.

But not one of the children wished that the adventure was over. No — to be in the middle of one was the most exciting thing in the world!

For two whole days the company marched valiantly onwards. The children were all good walkers except Paul, and as Ranni carried him on his shoulders when he was very tired, that helped a good deal.

They had now come to the mountains and the guide was leading them steadily upwards. It was tiring to climb always, but the children soon got used to it. Mafumu did not seem to mind anything. He skipped along, and went just as fast uphill as down. He had picked up some more words now, and used them often, much to the children’s amusement.

“Goodgracious, shutup, hallo, thanksawfully,” he would chant as he skipped along, his load of packages balanced marvellously and never falling. “Hurryup, hurryup, hallo!”

“Isn’t he an idiot?“ said Jack. But although the children laughed at his antics, they all liked the cheerful boy enormously. He brought them curious things to eat — toadstools that were marvellous when cooked — strange leaves that tasted of peppermint and were good to chew — fruit of all kinds, some sweet, some bitter, some too queer-tasting to eat, though Mafumu ate everything, and smacked his lips and rubbed his round tummy in delight.

On the second day, when the children were all climbing steadily, Mafumu saw a clump of bushes high up some way in front of them. They were hung with brilliant blue berries, which Mafumu knew were sweet and juicy. He took a short cut away from the path, and climbed to the bushes.

He stripped them of the blue berries and began to jump back to join the company. But on the way his foot caught against a loose stone that rattled down the hillside and fell against his uncle’s leg.

In a fury the guide sprang at his nephew and caught hold of him. He beat him hard with his spear, and the little boy cried out in pain, trying his best to wriggle away.

“Oh, stop him, stop him!” yelled Jack, who hated unkindness of any sort. “Mafumu was only getting berries for us. Stop, stop!”

But the guide did not stop, and Jack ran up to him. He wrenched the spear out of the man’s hand and threw it down the hillside in anger, his face red with rage.

The spear went clattering down and was lost. The guide turned on Jack, but Ranni was beside him, talking sternly. The man listened, his eyes flashing. He said nothing, but turned to lead the way up the mountain-side once more.

“What did you say to him, Ranni?” asked Mike.

“I told him he would not get paid if he hit anyone again,” said Ranni shortly. “He was just about to strike Jack. Don’t interfere again, Jack. I’ll do the interfering.”

“Sorry,” said Jack, though he was still boiling with rage. Mafumu had got up from the ground, his face and arms covered with bruises. He ran to Jack and hugged him, speaking excitedly in his own language.

“Stop it, for goodness sake, Mafumu,” said Jack uncomfortably. “Oh golly, I wish you wouldn’t. Do let go, Mafumu!”

“He says he will be your friend for ever,” said Ranni with a grin. “He says he will leave his uncle and his tribe and come and be with the wonderful boy all his life. He says you are a king of boys!”

“King Jack, the king of boys!” shouted Mike, clapping Jack on the shoulder.

“Shut up,” growled Jack.

“Shutup, shutup, shutup,” echoed Mafumu happily, letting go of Jack and walking as close to his hero as he possibly could.

After that, of course, Mafumu adored Jack even more than before, and Jack got used to seeing the little boy always at his heels, like a shadow. He could not get rid of him, so he put up with it, secretly rather proud that Mafumu should have picked him out to be his friend.

It got steadily cooler as they all climbed higher. The mountains seemed never-ending.

“We shall never, never get to the top,” said poor Peggy, who had started a blister on one heel.

“We’re not going to the top,” said Mike. “All we are doing is climbing to a place where we can pass between two mountains. Ranni says we shall strike off to the east there, by that enormous rock, and make our way to a place where this mountain and the next one meet. There is a pass between them — and from there we can see the Secret Mountain!”

”Golly!” said Paul. “Are we as near as all that?”

“Well — not awfully near,” said Mike. “But we’ll get there sooner or later. Have you rubbed that stuff that Ranni gave you, all over your heel, Peggy?”

“Yes,” said Peggy. “And I’ve put a wad of cotton-wool over the blister too. I shall be all right.”

“Good girl,” said Mike. “I don’t think things like blisters ought to creep into adventures like ours!”

Everyone laughed. They had put on woollen jerseys now and were glad of them, especially when clouds rolled down the mountain-side and covered them in mist. They were glad of hot drinks, too, heated over a fire of sticks.