CHAPTER XI 

THAT HERO OTTER 

"Help me to secure the gate," said Leonard presently. 

In another minute the great iron bar had been dropped into its place, and Leonard withdrew the key and put it in his pocket. 

"Why do you secure the door, Baas?" whispered Otter. 

"To keep the real Pierre out, in case he should come this way. Two Pierres would be one too many at this game. Now we must win or perish." 

Then they crept along the embankment till they gained the shelter of the hut or barrack-shed which stood with its back to the dike that separated the Nest from the slave camp. Happily none saw them, and there were no dogs in the place. Dogs make a noise at inconvenient times, therefore slave-dealers do not love them. 

The end of the shed behind which they were crouching was situated some eight or ten paces from the drawbridge, that formed the only path of entry to the slave camp. 

"Baas," said Otter, "let me go forward and look. My eyes are the eyes of a cat; I can see in the dark. Perhaps the bridge is down." 

Without waiting for an answer, he crept forward on his hands and knees so quietly that they could scarcely hear a movement. Notwithstanding his white dress, there was little chance of his being seen, for the shadow of the shed was dense and a fringe of rushes grew along the edge of the dike. 

Five minutes passed--ten minutes passed, and Otter did not return. Leonard's anxiety grew very keen. 
Who wanted to adjust the gate?
Help me to secure the gate," said Leonard presently