"You'll die, too, if you eat me," said Rob. "I'm full of poison."
"Poison? Don't know poison," returned the chief, much perplexed to understand him.
"Well, poison will make you sick--awful sick. Then you'll die. I'm full of it; eat it every day for breakfast. It don't hurt white men, you see, but it kills black men quicker than the bang-stick."
The chief listened to this statement carefully, but only understood it in part. After a moment's reflection he declared:
"White man lie. Lie all time. Me eat plenty white man. Never get sick; never die." Then he added, with renewed cheerfulness: "Me eat you, too!"
Before Rob could think of a further protest, his captors caught up the end of the rope and led him away through the forest. He was tightly bound, and one strand of rope ran across the machine on his wrist and pressed it into his flesh until the pain was severe. But he resolved to be brave, whatever happened, so he stumbled along after the savages without a word.
After a brief journey they came to a village, where Rob was thrust into a brushwood hut and thrown upon the ground, still tightly bound.
"We light fire," said the chief. "Then kill little white man. Then eat him."
With this comforting promise he went away and left Rob alone to think the matter over.
