80 HUNTING IN THE JUNGLE. 



" No, nor yesterday, nor the day before." 



His great eyes open, his lower jaw dropped, Thursday 

 stood thunderstruck. 



" You see," I added, " there is no one in the house 

 beside Tom to do such a thing." 



Recovering a little from his surprise, the kindly fellow 

 shook his head slowly and said, — 



" No, it can't be Tom, for he went at four o'clock 

 with the cook to get the fish, and is but just returned. 

 He had not taken off his basket when massa called me." 



This seemed proof conclusive of his innocence ; but who 

 could be the sly thief ? 



" Would massa like to know who has played him this 

 trick ? " Thursday whispered, making the strangest faces 

 and gestures. "It is the mafoucs ! " 



"Who the deuce are they?" 



" They are the evil spirits of the Niger, who are furious 

 at not having been able to kill the white chief who in- 

 vaded their shores, and have come to revenge themselves 

 here." 



I could not help laughing at his superstitious fears. 



"My good Thursday," I said, "that I am not buried 

 in their marshes is due to your devotion and my own 

 capital constitution. As for these mafoucs — " 



" Speak no evil of them, sir," he urged, with real 

 terror; and I concluded to let the matter rest until I 

 could catch the thief unaided. At dinner I told the 

 story to my host, who smiled in a knowing way, and. 



