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In an instant I was round the brake, and there lay Shumari, apparently unhurt, and the Soko — dying!

“Untie his hands,” I said. This was done, and the wounded thing made an effort to stagger to its feet.

A dozen arms thrust it to the ground again. “ Let him rise,” I said; “help him to rise;” and Mabruki helped the Soko on to its feet.

Powers above! If this were an ape, what else were half my expedition? The wounded wood-thing passed its right arm round Mabruki’s neck, and taking one of his hands, pressed it to its own heart. A deep sob shook its frame, and then it lifted back its head and looked in turn into all the faces round it, with the death-glaze settling fast in its eyes. I came nearer, and took its hand as it hung on Mabruki’s shoulder. The muscles, gradually contracting in death, made it seem as if there was a gentle pressure of my palm, and then — the thing died.

Life left it so suddenly that we could not believe that all was over. But the Soko was really dead, and close to where he lay I had him buried.

“Master said he wanted the Soko’s skin,” said Shumari, in a weak voice, reminding me of my words of a few days before.

“No, no,” I said; “bury the wild man quickly. We shall march at once.”