THE IVORY TRAIL By Talbot Mundy

Author ofKing--of the Khyber RiflesThe Winds of the WorldHira Singhetc. 

Chapter One

THE NJO HAPA* SONG

Green, ah greener than emeralds are, tree-tops beckon the dhows to land, White, oh whiter than diamonds are, blue waves burst on the amber sand, And nothing is fairer than Zanzibar from the Isles o' the West to the Marquesand. 

 I was old when the world was wild with youth (All love was lawless then!) Since 'Venture's birth from ends of earth I ha' called the sons of men, And their women have wept the ages out In travail sore to know What lure of opiate art can leach Along bare seas from reef to beach Until from port and river reach The fever'd captains go. 

Red, oh redder than red lips are, my flowers nod in the blazing noon, Blue, oh bluer than maidens' eyes, are the breasts o' my waves in the young monsoon, And there are cloves to smell, and musk, and lemon trees, and cinnamon. 

---------*The words "Njo hapa" in the Kiswahili tongue are the equivalent of"come hither!"---------

Estimates of ease and affluence vary with the point of view. While hisolder brother lived, Monty had continued in his element, a cavalryofficer, his combined income and pay ample for all that the Bombay sideof India might require of an English gentleman. They say that a finerpolo player, a steadier shot on foot at a tiger, or a bolder squadronleader never lived. 

But to Monty's infinite disgust his brother died childless. It isdivulging no secret that the income that passed with the title variedbetween five and seven thousand pounds a year, according as coal washigh, and tenants prosperous or not--a mere miserable pittance, ofcourse, for the Earl of Montdidier and Kirkudbrightshire; so that allhis ventures, and therefore ours, had one avowed end--shekels enough tolift the mortgages from his estates. 

Five generations of soldiers had blazed the Montdidier fame onbattle-grounds, to a nation's (and why not the whole earth's) benefit, without replenishing the family funds, and Monty (himself a confirmedand convinced bachelor) was minded when his own time should come topass the title along to the next in line together with sufficient fundsto support its dignity. 

To us--even to Yerkes, familiar with United States merchant kings--heseemed with his thirty thousand dollars a year already a gildedCroesus. He had ample to travel on, and finance prospecting trips. Wenever lacked for working capital, but the quest (and, including Yerkes, we were as keen as he) led us into strange places. 

So behold him--a privy councilor of England if you please--lounging inthe lazaretto of Zanzibar, clothed only in slippers, underwear and along blue dressing-gown. We three others were dressed the same, andbecause it smacked of official restraint we objected noisily; butMonty did not seem to mind much. He was rather bored, but unresentful. 

A French steamer had put us ashore in quarantine, with the grim wordcholera against us, and although our tale of suffering and Monty'srank, insured us a friendly reception, the port health authoritieselected to be strict and we were given a nice long lazy time in whichto cool our heels and order new clothes. (Guns, kit, tents, and allbut what we stood in had gone to the bottom with the German choleraship from whose life-boat the French had rescued us. )

"Keeping us all this time in this place, is sheer tyranny!" grumbledYerkes. "If any one wants my opinion, they're afraid we'd talk if theylet us out--more afraid of offending Germans than they are of cholera!Besides--any fool could know by now we're not sick!"

"There might be something in that, " admitted Monty. 

"I'd send for the U. S. Consul and sing the song out loud, but foryou!" Yerkes added. 

Monty nodded sympathetically. 

"Dashed good of you, Will, and all that sort of thing. "

"You English are so everlastingly afraid of seeming to start trouble, you'll swallow anything rather than talk!"

"As a government, perhaps yes, " admitted Monty. "As a people, I fancynot. As a people we vary. "

"You vary in that respect as much as sardines in a can! I traveledonce all the way from London to Glasgow alone in one compartment withan Englishman. Talk? My, we were garrulous! I offered him anewspaper, cigarettes, matches, remarks on the weather suited to hisbrand of intelligence--(that's your sole national topic of talk betweenstrangers!)--and all he ever said to me was 'Haw-ah!' I'll bet he wasafraid of seeming to start trouble!"

"He didn't start any, did he?" asked Monty. 

"Pretty nearly he did! I all but bashed him over the bean with thenewspaper the third time he said 'haw-ah!'"

Monty laughed. Fred Oakes was busy across the room with his mostamazing gift of tongues, splicing together half-a-dozen of them inorder to talk with the old lazaretto attendant, so he heard nothing;otherwise there would have been argument. 

"Then it would have been you, not he who started trouble, "' said I, andYerkes threw both hands up in a gesture of despair. 

"Even you're afraid of starting something!" He stared at both of uswith an almost startled expression, as if he could not believe his ownverdict, yet could not get away from it. "Else you'd give theBundesrath story to the papers! That German skipper's conduct ought tobe bruited round the world! You said you'd do it. You promised us!You told the man to his face you would!"

"Now, " said Monty, "you've touched on another national habit. "

"Which one?" Yerkes demanded. 

"Dislike of telling tales out of school. The man's dead. His ship'sat the bottom. The tale's ended. What's the use? Besides--?"

"Ah! You've another reason! Spill it!"

"As a privy councilor, y'know, and all that sort of thing--?"

"Same story! Afraid of starting something!"

"The Germans--'specially their navy men--drink to what they call DerTag y'know--the day when they shall dare try to tackle England. We allknow that. They're planning war, twenty years from now perhaps, thatshall give them all our colonies as well as India and Egypt. They'reso keen on it they can't keep from bragging. Great Britain, on theother hand, hasn't the slightest intention of fighting if war can beavoided; so why do anything meanwhile to increase the tension? Whysend broadcast a story that would only arouse international hatred?That's their method. Ours--I mean our government's--is to give hatreda chance to die down. If our papers got hold of the Bundesrath storythey'd make a deuce of a noise, of course. "

"If your government's so sure Germany is planning war, " objectedYerkes, "why on earth not force war, and feed them full of it beforethey're ready"

"Counsel of perfection, " laughed Monty. "Government's responsible tothe Common--Commons to the people--people want peace and plenty. No. Your guess was good. We are in here while the government at homesquares the newspaper men. "

"You don't mean to tell me your British government controls the press?"

"Hardly. Seeing 'em--putting it up to 'em straight--asking 'empolitely. They're public-spirited, y'know. Hitting 'em with a clubwould be another thing. It's an easy-going nation, but kings have beensorry they tried force. Did you never hear of a king who used forceagainst American colonies?"

"Good God! So they keep you--an earl--a privy councilor--a retiredcolonel of regulars in good standing--under lock and key in thispest-house while they bribe the press not to tell the truth about someGermans and start trouble?"

"Not exactly" said Monty. 

"But here you are!"

"I preferred to remain with my party. "

"You moan they'd have let you out and kept us in?"

"They'd have phrased it differently, but that's about what it wouldhave amounted to. I have privileges. "

"Well, I'm jiggered!"

"I rather suspect it's not so bad as that, " said Monty. "You're withfriends in quarantine, Will!"

For a quarantine station in the tropics it was after all not such a badplace. We could hear the crooning of lazy rollers on the beach, andwhat little sea-breeze moved at all came in to us through iron-barredwindows. The walls were of coral, three feet thick. So was the roof. The wet red-tiled floor made at least an impression of coolness, andthe fresh green foliage of an enormous mango tree, while it obstructedmost of the view, suggested anything but durance vile. From not veryfar away the aromatic smell of a clove warehouse located us, notdisagreeably, at the farther end of one of Sindbad's journeys, and thebirds in the mango branches cried and were colorful with hues and notesof merry extravagance. Zanzibar is no parson's paradise--nor thecenter of much high society. It reeks of unsavory history as well asof spices. But it has its charms, and the Arabs love it. 

It had Fred Oakes so interested that he had forgotten hisconcertina--his one possession saved from shipwreck, for which he hadoffered to fight the whole of Zanzibar one-handed rather than have itburned. 

("Damnation! it has silver reeds--it's an English top-hole one--awonder!")

So the doctors who are kind men in the main disinfected it twice, onceon the French liner that picked us out of the Bundesrath's boat, andagain in Zanzibar; and with the stench of lord-knew-what zealouschemical upon it he had let it lie unused while he picked up Kiswahiliand talked by the hour to a toothless, wrinkled very black man with atouch of Arab in his breeding, and a deal of it in his brimstonevocabulary. 

Presently Fred came over and joined us, dancing across the wide redfloor with the skirts of his gown outspread like a balletdancer's--ridiculous and perfectly aware of it. 

"Monty, you're rich! We're all made men! We're all rich! Let's spendmoney! Let's send for catalogues and order things!"

Monty declined to take fire. It was I, latest to join the partnershipand much the least affluent, who bit. 

"If you love the Lord, explain!" said I. 

"This old one-eyed lazaretto attendant is an ex-slave, ex-accomplice ofTippoo Tib!"

"And Tippoo Tib?" I asked. 

"Ignorant fo'castle outcast!" (All that because I had made one voyageas foremast hand, and deserted rather than submit to more of it. )"Tippoo Tib is the Arab--is, mind you, my son, not was--the Arab whowas made governor of half the Congo by H. M. Stanley and the rest of'em. Tippoo Tib is the expert who used to bring the slave caravans toZanzibar--bring 'em, send 'em, send for 'em--he owned 'em anyway. Tippoo Tib was the biggest ivory hunter and trader lived since old KingSolomon! Tippoo Tib is here--in Zanzibar--to all intents and purposesa prisoner on parole--old as the hills--getting ready to die--and proudas the very ace of hell. So says One-eye!"

"So we're all rich?" suggested Monty. 

"Of course we are! Listen! The British government took Tippoo'sslaves away and busted his business. Made him come and live in thisplace, go to church on Sundays, and be good. Then they asked him whathe'd done with his ivory. Asked him politely after putting him throughthat mill! One-eye here says Tippoo had a million tusks--amillion!--safely buried! Government offered him ten per cent. Of theircash value if he'd tell 'em where, and the old sport spat in theirfaces! Swears he'll die with the secret! One-eye vows Tippoo is theonly one who knows. There were others, but Tippoo shot or poisoned'em. "

"So we're rich, " smiled Yerkes. 

"Of course we are! Consider this, America, and tell me if Standard Oilcan beat it! One million tusks I I'm told--"

"By whom?"

"One-eye says--"

"You'll say 'Oh!' at me to a different tune, before I've done! One-eyesays it never paid to carry a tusk weighing less than sixty pounds. Some tusks weigh two hundred--some even more--took four men to carrysome of 'em! Call it an average weight of one hundred pounds and be onthe safe side. "

"Yes, let's play safe, " agreed Monty seriously. 

"One hundred million pounds of ivory!" said Fred, with a smack of hislips and the air of a man who could see the whole of it. "The presentmarket price of new ivory is over ten shillings a pound on the spot. That'll all be very old stuff, worth at least double. But let's sayten shillings a pound and be on the safe side. "

"Yes, let's!" laughed Yerkes. 

"One thousand million--a billion shillings!" Fred announced. "Fiftymillion pounds!"

"Two hundred and fifty million dollars!" Yerkes calculated, beginningto take serious notice. 

"But how are we to find it?" I objected. 

"That's the point. Government 'ud hog the lot, but has hunted high andlow and can't find it. So the offer stands ten per cent. To any onewho does--ten per cent. Of fifty million--lowest reckoning, mindyou!--five million pounds! Half for Monty--two and a half million. Amillion for Yerkes, a million for me, and a half a million for you allaccording to contract! How d'you like it?"

"Well enough, " I answered. "If its only the hundredth part true, I'menthusiastic!"

"So now suit yourselves!" said Fred, collapsing with a sweep of hisskirts into the nearest chair. "I've told you what One-eye says. These dusky gents sometimes exaggerate of course--"

"Now and then, " admitted Monty. 

"But where there's smoke you mean there's prob'ly some one smokinghams?" suggested Yerkes. 

"I mean, let's find that ivory!" said Fred. 

"We might do worse than make an inquiry or two, " Monty assentedcautiously. 

"Didums, you damned fool, you're growing old! You're wasting time!You're trying to damp enthusiasm! You're--you're--"

"Interested, Fred. I'm interested. Let's--"

"Let's find that ivory and to hell with caution! Why, man alive, it'sthe chance of a million lifetimes!"

"Well, then, " said Monty, "admitting the story's true for the sake ofargument, how do you propose to get on the track of the secret?"

"Get on it? I am on it! Didn't One-eye say Tippoo Tib is alive and inZanzibar? The old rascal! Many a slave he's done to death! Many aman be's tortured! I propose we catch Tippoo Tib, hide him, and pullout his toe-nails one by one until be blows the gaff!"

(To hear Fred talk when there is nothing to do but talk a strangermight arrive at many false conclusions. )

"If there's any truth in the story at all, " said Monty, "governmentwill have done everything within the bounds of decency to coax thefacts from Tippoo Tib. I suspect we'd have to take our chance andsimply hunt. But let's hear Juma's story. "

So the old attendant left off sprinkling water from a yellow jar, andcame and stood before us. Fred's proposal of tweaking toe-nails wouldnot have been practical in his case, for he had none left. His blacklegs, visible because he had tucked his one long garment up about hiswaist, were a mass of scars. He was lean, angular, yet peculiarlystraight considering his years. As he stood before us he let hisshirt-like garment drop, and the change from scarecrow to deferentialservant was instantaneous. He was so wrinkled, and the wrinkles wereso deep, that one scarcely noticed his sightless eye, almost hiddenamong a nest of creases; and in spite of the wrinkles, his polished, shaven head made him look ridiculously youthful because one expectedgray hair and there was none. 

"Ask him how he lost his toe-nails, Fred, " said I. 

But the old man knew enough English to answer for himself. He made awry grimace and showed his hands. The finger-nails were gone too. 

"Tell us your story, Juma, " said Monty. 

"Tell 'em about the pembe--the ivory--the much ivory--the meengipembe, " echoed Fred. 

"Let's hear about those nails of his first, " said I. 

"One thing'll prob'ly lead to another, " Yerkes agreed. "Start him onthe toe-nail story. "

But it did not lead very far. Fred, who had picked up Kiswahili enoughto piece out the old man's broken English, drew him out and clarifiedthe tale. But it only went to prove that others besides ourselves hadbeard of Tippoo Tib's hoard. Some white man--we could not make bead ortail of the name, but it sounded rather like Somebody belonging to aman named Carpets--had trapped him a few years before and put him totorture in the belief that be knew the secret. 

"But me not knowing nothing!" he assured us solemnly, shaking his headagain and again. 

But he was not in the least squeamish about telling us that Tippoo Tibhad surely buried huge quantities of ivory, and had caused to be slainafterward every one who shared the secret. 

"How long ago?" asked Monty. But natives of that part of the earth arepoor hands at reckoning time. 

"Long time, " he assured us. He might have meant six years, or sixty. It would have been all the same to him. 

"No. Me not liking Tippoo Tib. One time his slave. That bad. Byumbyset free. That good. Now working here. This very good. "

"Where do you think the ivory is?" (This from Yerkes. )

But the old man shook his head. 

"As I understand it, " said Monty, "slaves came mostly from the Congoside of Lake Victoria Nyanza. Slave and elephant country wereapproximately the same as regards general direction, and there were tworoutes from the Congo--the southern by way of Ujiji on Tanganyika toBagamoyo on what is now the German coast, and the other to the north ofVictoria Nyanza ending at Mombasa. Ask him, Fred, which way the ivoryused to come. "

"Both ways, " announced Juma without waiting for Fred to interpret. Hehad an uncanny trick of following conversation, his intelligenceseeming to work by fits and starts. 

"That gives us about half Africa for hunting-ground, and a job forlife!" laughed Yerkes. 

"Might have a worse!" Fred answered, resentful of cold water thrown onhis discovery. 

"Were you Tippoo Tib's slave when he buried the ivory?" demanded Monty, and the old man nodded. 

"Where were you at the time?"

Juma made a gesture intended to suggest immeasurable distances towardthe West, and the name of the place he mentioned was one we had neverheard of. 

"Can you take us to Tippoo Tib when we leave this place?" I asked, andbe nodded again. 

"How much ivory do you suppose there was?" asked Yerkes. 

"Teli, teli!" he answered, shaking his head. 

"Too much!" Fred translated. 

"Pretty fair to middling vague, " said Yerkes, "but"--judicially--"almost worth investigating!"

"Investigating?" Fred sprang from his chair. "It's better than allKing Solomon's mines, El Dorado, Golconda, and Sindbad the Sailor'streasure lands--rolled in one! It's an obviously good thing! All weneed is a bit of luck and the ivory's ours!"

"I'll sell you my share now for a thousand dollars--come--come across!"grinned Yerkes. 

There was a rough-house after that. He and Fred nearly pulled the oldattendant in two, each claiming the right to torture him first andlearn the secret. They ended up without a whole rag between them, andhad to send Juma to head-quarters for new blue dressing-gowns. Thedoctor came himself--a fat good-natured party with an eye-glass and acocktail appetite, acting locum-tenens for the real official who washome on leave. He brought the ingredients for cocktails with him. 

"Yes, " he said, shaking the mixer with a sort of deft solicitude. "There's more than something in the tale. I've had a try myself to getdetails. Tippoo Tib believes in up-to-date physic, and when the oldrascal's sick he sends for me. I offered to mix him an elixir of lifethat would make him out-live Methuselah if he'd give me as much as ahint of the general direction of his cache. "

"He ought to have fallen for that, " said Yerkes, but the doctor shookhis head. 

"He's an Arab. They're Shiah Muhammedans. Their Paradise is apleasant place from all accounts. He advised me to drink my ownelixir, and have lots and lots of years in which to find the ivory, without being beholden to him for help. Wily old scaramouch! But Ihad a better card up my sleeve. He has taken to discarding ancientprejudices--doesn't drink or anything like that, but treats his haremalmost humanly. Lets 'em have anything that costs him nothing. Evensends for a medico when they're sick! Getting lax in his old age!Sent for me a while ago to attend his favorite wife--sixty years old ifshe's a day, and as proud of him as if he were the king of Jerusalem. Well--I looked her over, judged she was likely to keep her bed, and didsome thinking. "

"You know their religious law? A woman can't go to Paradise withoutspecial intercession, mainly vicarious. I found a mullah--that's aMuhammedan priest--who'd do anything for half of nothing. They most ofthem will. I gave him fifty dibs, and promised him more if the trickworked. Then I told the old woman she was going to die, but that ifshe'd tell me the secret of Tippoo Tib's ivory I had a mullah handy whowould pass her into Paradise ahead of her old man. What did she do?She called Tippoo Tib, and he turned me out of the house. So I'm fiftyout of pocket, and what's worse, the old girl didn't die--got right upout of bed and stayed up! My rep's all smashed to pieces among theArabs!"

"D'you suppose the old woman knew the secret?" I asked. 

"Not she! If she'd known it she'd have split! The one ambition shehas left is to be with Tippoo Tib in Paradise. But he can intercedefor her and get her in--provided he feels that way; so she rounded onme in the hope of winning his special favor! But the old ruffian knowsbetter! He'll no more pray for her than tell me where the ivory is!The Koran tells him there are much better houris in Paradise, so whytrouble to take along a toothless favorite from this world?"

"Has the government any official information?" asked Monty. 

"Quite a bit, I'm told. Official records of vain searches. Betweenyou and me and these four walls, about the only reason why they didn'thang the old slave-driving murderer was that they've always hoped he'ddivulge the secret some day. But be hates the men who broke him fartoo bitterly to enrich them on any terms! If any man wins the secretfrom him it'll be a foreigner. They tell me a German had a hard tryonce. One of Karl Peters' men. "

"That'll be Carpets!" said Monty. "Somebody belonging to Carpets--KarlPeters. "

"The man's serving a life sentence in the jail for torturing our friendJuma here. "

"Then Juma knows the secret?"

"So they say. But Juma, too, hopes to go to Paradise and wait onTippoo Tib. "

"He told us just now that he dislikes Tippoo Tib, " I objected. 

"So he does, but that makes no difference. Tippoo Tib is a bigchief--sultani kubwa--take any one he fancies to Heaven with him!"

We all looked at Juma with a new respect. 

"I got Juma his job in here, " said the doctor. "I've rather the notionof getting my ten per cent. On the value of that ivory some day!"

"Are there any people after it just now?" asked Monty. 

"I don't know, I'm sure. There was a German named Schillingschen, whospent a month in Zanzibar and talked a lot with Tippoo Tib. The oldrascal might tell his secret to any one he thought was England's reallydangerous enemy. Schillingschen crossed over to British East if Iremember rightly. He might be on the track of it. "

"Tell us more about Schillingschen, " said Monty. 

"He's one of those orientalists, who profess to know more about Islamthan Christianity--more about Africa and Arabia than Europe--more aboutthe occult than what's in the open. A man with a shovelbeard--stout--thick-set--talks Kiswahili and Arabic and half a dozenother languages better than the natives do themselves. Hasmoney--outfit like a prince's--everythingimaginable--Rifles--microscopes--cigars--wine. He didn't make himselfagreeable here--except to the Arabs. Didn't call at the Residency. Some of us asked him to dinner one evening, but he pleaded a headache. We were glad, because afterward we saw him eat at the hotel--has waysof using his fingers at table, picked up I suppose from the people hehas lived among. "

"Are you nearly ready to let us out of here?" asked Monty. 

"Your quarantine's up, " said the doctor. "I'm only waiting for wordfrom the office. "

We drank three rounds of cocktails with him, after which he grew darklyfriendly and proposed we should all set out together in search of thehoard. 

"I've no money, " he assured us. "Nothing but a knowledge of thenatives and a priceless thirst. I'd have to throw up my practise here. Of course I'd need some sort of guarantee from you chaps. "

The proposal falling flat, be gathered the nearly empty bottles intoone place and shouted for his boy to come and carry them away. 

"Think it over!" he urged as he got up to leave us. "You might take abigger fool than me with you. You'd need a doctor on a trip like that. I'm an expert on some of these tropical diseases. Think it over!"

"Fred!" said Monty, as soon as the doctor had left the room, "I'mtempted by this ivory of yours. "

But Fred, in the new blue dressing-gown the doctor had brought, was inanother world--a land of trope and key and metaphor. For the last tenminutes he had kept a stub of pencil and a scrap of paper working, andnow the strident tones of his too long neglected concertina stirred theheavy air and shocked the birds outside to silence. The instrument waswheezy, for in addition to the sacrilege the port authorities had doneby way of disinfection, the bellows had been wetted when Fred plungedfrom the sinking Bundesrath and swam. But he is not what you couldcall particular, as long as a good loud noise comes forth that can bejerked and broken into anything resembling tune. 

"Tempted, are you?" he laughed. He looked like a drunken troubadour endeshabille, with those up-brushed mustaches and his usually neat brownbeard all spread awry. "Temptation's more fun than plunder!"

Yerkes threw an orange at him, more by way of recognition thanremonstrance. We had not heard Fred sing since he tried to charmcholera victims in the Bundesrath's fo'castle, and, like the rest ofus, he had his rights. He sang with legs spread wide in front of him, and head thrown back, and, each time be came to the chorus, kept onrepeating it until we joined in. 

 There's a prize that's full familiar from Zanzibar toFrance; From Tokio to Boston; we are paid it in advance. It's the wages of adventure, and the wide world knows the feel Of the stuff that stirs good huntsmen all and brings the hounds to heel! It's the one reward that's gratis and precedes the toilsome task-- It's the one thing always better than an optimist canask! It's amusing, it's amazing, and it's never twice the same; It's the salt of true adventure and the glamour of thegame!

 CHORUS It is tem-tem-pitation! The one sublime sensation! You may doubt it, but without it There would be no derring-do! The reward the temptee cashes Is too often dust and ashes, But you'll need no spurs or lashes When temptation beckons you!

 Oh, it drew the Roman legions to old Britain's distantisle, And it beckoned H. M. Stanley to the sources of the Nile; It's the one and only reason for the bristling guns atGib, For the skeletons at Khartoum, and the crimes of Tippoo Tib. The gentlemen adventurers braved torture for its sake, It beckoned out the galleons, and filled the hulls ofDrake! Oh, it sets the sails of commerce, and it whets the edge of war, It's the sole excuse for churches, and the only cause of law!

 CHORUS It is tem-tem-pitation! etc. , etc. No note is there of failure (that's a tune the croakers sing!) This song's of youth, and strength, and health, and time that's on the wing! Of wealth beyond the hazy blue of far horizons flung-- But never of the folk returning, disillusioned, stung! It's a tale of gold and ivory, of plunder out of reach, Of luck that fell to other men, of treasure on the beach-- A compound, cross-reciprocating two-way double spell, The low, sweet lure to Heaven, and the tallyho to hell!

 CHORUS It is tem-tem-pitation! The one sublime sensation! You may doubt it, but without it There would be no derring-do! It's the siren of to-morrow That knows naught of lack or sorrow, So you'll sell your bonds and borrow, When temptation beckons you!

Once Fred starts there is no stopping him, short of personal violence, and he ran through his ever lengthening list of songs, not all quiteprintable, until the very coral walls ached with the concertina'swailing, and our throats were hoarse from ridiculous choruses. AsYerkes put it:

"When pa says sing, the rest of us sing too or go crazy!"

I went to the window and tried to get a view of shipping through themango branches. Masts and sails--lateen spars particularly--always getme by the throat and make me happy for a while. But all I could seewas a low wall beyond the little compound, and over the top of itheadgear of nearly all the kinds there are. (Zanzibar is a wonderfulmarket for second-hand clothes. There was even a tall silk hat of notvery ancient pattern. )

"Come and look, Monty!" said !, and he and Yerkes came and stood besideme. Seeing his troubadour charm was broken, Fred snapped the catch onthe concertina and came too. 

"Arabian Nights!" he exclaimed, thumping Monty on the back. 

"Didums, you drunkard, we're dead and in another world! Juma is theone-eyed Calender! Look--fishermen--houris--how many houris?--seen 'emgrin!--soldiers of fortune--merchants--sailors--by gad, there's Sindbadhimself!--and say! If that isn't the Sultan Haroun-al-Raschid indisguise I'm willing to eat beans and pie for breakfast to obligeYerkes! Look--look at the fat ruffian's stomach and swagger, will you?"

Yerkes sized up the situation quickest. 

"Sing him another song, Fred. If we want to strike up acquaintancewith half Zanzibar, here's our chance!"

"Oh, Richard, oh, my king!" hummed Monty. "It's Coeur de Lion andBlondell over again with the harp reversed. "

If Zanzibar may be said to possess main thoroughfares, that window ofours commanded as much of one as the tree and wall permitted; andmusic--even of a concertina--is the key to the heart of all peoplewhose hair is crisp and kinky. Perhaps rather owing to the generosityof their slave law, and Koran teachings, more than to racial depravity, there are not very many Arabs left in that part of the world with truesemitic features and straight hair, nor many woolly-headed folk who arequite all-Bantu. There is enough Arab blood in all of them to makethem bold; Bantu enough for syncopated, rag-time music to take them bythe toes and stir them. The crowd in the street grew, and gathereduntil a policeman in red fez and khaki knickerbockers came and startedtrouble. He had a three-cornered fight on his hands, and no sympathyfrom any one, within two minutes. Then the man with the stomach andswagger--he whom Fred called Haroun-al-Raschid--took a hand in masterlystyle. He seized the police-man from behind, flung him out of thecrowd, and nobody was troubled any more by that official. 

"That him Tippoo Tib's nephew!" said a voice, and we all jumped. Wehad not noticed Juma come and stand beside us. 

"I suspect nephew is a vague relationship in these parts, " said Monty. "Do you mean Tippoo's brother was that man's father, Juma?"

"No, bwana. * Tippoo Tib bringing slave long ago f'm Bagamoyo. Himshe-slave having chile. She becoming concubine Tippoo Tib his wife'sbrother. That chile Tippoo Tib's nephew. Tea ready, bwana. "

-----------------* Bwana, Swahili word meaning master. -----------------

"What does that man do for a living?"

"Do for a living?" Juma was bewildered. 

"What does he work at?"

"Not working. "

"Never?"

"No. 

"Has he private means, then?"

"I not understand. Tea ready, bwana!"

"Has he got mali*?" Fred demanded. 

"Mali? No. Him poor man. "

--------------*Mali, Swahili word meaning possession, property. --------------

"Then how does he exist, if he has no mali and doesn't work?"

"Oh, one wife here, one there, one other place, an'Tippoo Tib byumby him giving food. "

"How many wives has he?"

"Tea ready, bwana!"

"How do they come to be spread all over the place?" (We were shootingquestions at him one after the other, and Juma began to look as if bewould have preferred a repetition of the toe-nail incident. )

"Oh, he travel much, an' byumby lose all money, then stay here. Tea, him growing cold. "

There is no persuading the native servant who has lived under the UnionJack that an Englishman does not need hot tea at frequent intervals, even after three cocktails in an afternoon. So we trooped to the tableto oblige him, and went through the form of being much refreshed. 

"What is that man's name?" demanded Monty. 

"Hassan. "

"Do you know him?"

"Everybody know him!"

"Can you get a message to him?"

"Yes, bwana. "

"Tell him to come and talk with us at the hotel as soon as he hears weare out of this. "

We did not know it at the time (for I don't think that Monty guessed iteither) that we had taken the surest way of setting all Zanzibar by theears. In that last lingering stronghold of legal slavery, * where theonly stories judged worth listening to are the very sources of theThousand Nights and a Night, intrigue is not perhaps the breath oflife, but it is the salt and savory. There is a woolly-headed sultanwho draws a guaranteed, fixed income and has nothing better to do thanregale himself and a harem with western alleged amusement. There arepolice, and lights, and municipal regulations. In fact, Zanzibar hascome on miserable times from certain points of view. But there remainsthe fun of listening to all the rumors borne by sea. "Play on theflute in Zanzibar and Africa as far as the lakes will dance!" the Arabssay, and the gentry who once drove slaves or traded ivory refuse tobelieve that the day of lawlessness is gone forever. One rumor then isworth ten facts. Four white men singing behind the bars of thelazaretto, desiring to speak with Hassan, "'nephew" of Tippoo Tib, andoffering money for the introduction, were enough to send whisperssizzling up and down all the mazy streets. 

----------------* Slavery was not absolutely and finally abolished in Zanzibar until1906, during which year even the old slaves, hitherto unwilling to beset free, had to be pensioned off. ----------------

Our release from quarantine took place next day, and we went to thehotel, where we were besieged at once by tradesmen, each proclaiminghimself the only honest outfitter and "agent for all good exportfirms. " Monty departed to call on British officialdom (one advantageof traveling with a nobleman being that he has to do the stilted socialstuff). Yerkes went to call on the United States Consul, the same beingpresumably a part of his religion, for he always does it, and almostalways abuses his government afterward. So Fred and I were left torepel boarders, and it came about that we two received Hassan. 

He entered our room with a great shout of "Hodi!" (and Fred knew enoughto say "Karibu!")--a smart red fez set at an angle on his shaven head, his henna-stained beard all newly-combed--a garment like a night-shirtreaching nearly to his heels, a sort of vest of silk embroideryrestraining his stomach's tendency to wobble at will, and a fat smiledecorating the least ashamed, most obviously opportunist face I eversaw, even on a black man. 

"Jambo, jambo;"* he announced, striding in and observing our lack ofworldly goods with one sweep of the eye. (We had not stocked up yetwith new things, and probably he did not know our old ones were at thebottom of the sea. ) He was a lion-hearted rascal though, at all eventsat the first rush, for poverty on the surface did not trouble him. 

---------------* Jambo, good day. ---------------

"You send for me? You want a good guide?"

The Haroun-al-Raschid look had disappeared. Now he was thejack-of-all-trades, wondering which end of the jack to push in first. 

"When I need a guide I'll get a licensed one, " said Fred, sitting downand turning partly away from him. (It never pays to let those gentrythink they have impressed you. ) "What is your business, Johnson?"

"My name Hassan, sah. You send for me? You want a headman. I'mformerly headman for Tippoo Tib, knowing all roads, and how to managewapagazi, * safari, ** all things!"

---------------* Wapagazi, plural of pagazi, porter. ** Safari, journey, and, by inference, outfit for a journey. ---------------

"Any papers to prove it?" asked Fred. 

"No, sir. Reference to Tippoo Tib himself sufficient! He mypart-uncle. "

"Ready to tell any kind of a lie for you, eh?"

"No, sir, always telling truth! You got a cook yet?"

"Can you cook?" Fred answered guardedly. 

"Yes, sah. Was cook formerly for Master Stanley, go with him onexpedition. Later his boy. Later his headman. You want to go onexpedition, I getting you good cook. Where you want to go?"

"Are you looking for a job?" asked Fred. 

"What you after? Ivory?"

"Maybe. "

"I know all about ivory--I shoot, trade ivory along o' Tippoo Tib an'Stanley. You engage my services, all very well. "

"Go and tell Tippoo Tib we want to see him. If he confirms what yousay, perhaps we'll take you on, " said Fred. 

"Tell Tippoo Tib? Ha-ha! You want to find his buried ivory--that it?All white men wanting that! All right, I go tell him! I come again!"

"Come back here, you fat rascal!" ordered Fred. "What do you meanabout buried ivory? What buried ivory?"

Hassan's face lost some of its transcendent cheek. Even the dyed beardseemed to wilt. 

"What you wanting?" he asked. "Hunt, trade, travel--what yourbusiness?"

"Fish!" Fred answered genially. 

"Samaki?"

"Yes--samaki--fish!"

Having no experience of Arabs, and part-Arabs, I wondered what on earthFred could be driving at. But Hassan wondered still more, and that wasthe whole point. He stood agape, looking from one to the other of us, his fat good-natured face an interrogation mark. 

"I go an' tell bwana Tippoo Tib!" he announced, and departed swiftly. 

"What's the idea of fish, Fred?" I asked. 

"Oh, just curiosity. The way of getting information out of coloredfolk is to get them so frantically curious they've no time to think uplies. Tobacco would have done as well--anything unexpected. A birdflying, and a black man lying, --are both of 'em easy to catch orconfuse unless they know which way they're heading. Let's go and lookat the bazaar. "

But in order to look one had to reach. We left the great heavy-beamedhotel that had once been Tippoo Tib's residence, but were stopped inthe outer doorway by a crowd of native boys, each with a brass plate onhis arm. 

"Guide, sah!--Guide, sah!--My name 'McPhairson, sah!--My name Jones, sah!--My name Johnson, sah! Guide to all the sights, sah!"

They were as persistent and evilly intentioned as a swarm of flies, andbold enough to strike back when anybody kicked them. While we wrestledand swore, but made no headway, we were accosted by a Greek, who seemedfrom long experience able to pass through them without striking orbeing struck. We were not left in doubt another second as to whetherour friend Hassan had dallied on the way, and held his tongue or not. 

"Good day, gentlemen! I hear you are after fish! Hah! That is a goodstory to tell to Arabs! You mean fishing for information, eh? Ha-hah!"

He turned on the swarm of boys, who still yelled and struggled aboutour legs. 

"Imshi!* Voetsak!** Enenda zako!*** Kuma nina, wewe!**** In a minutehe had them all scattering, for only innocence and inexperience attractthe preying youth of Zanzibar. "Now, gentlemen, my name isCoutlass--Georges Coutlass. Have a drink with me, and let me tell yousomething. "

-----------------* Imshi (Arabic), get to hell out of here!** Voetsak (Cape Dutch), ditto. *** Enenda zako (Kiswahill), ditto. **** Kuma nina (Kiswahill). An opprobrious, and perhaps the commonestexpletive In the language, amounting to a request for details of theobjurgee's female ancestry. By no means for use in drawing-rooms. ------------------

He was tall, dark skinned, athletic, and roguish-looking even for thebrand of Greek one meets with south of the Levant--dressed in khaki, with an American cowboy hat--his fingers nearly black with cigarettejuice --his hands unusually horny for that climate--and his hairclipped so short that it showed the bumps of avarice and other things, said to reside below the hat-band to the rear. Yet a plausible, companionable-seeming man. And Zanzibar confers democratic privilege, as well as fevers; impartiality hovers in the atmosphere as well assmells, and we neither of us dreamed of hesitating, but followed himback into the bar--a wide, low-ceilinged room whose beams were two feetthick of blackened, polished hard wood. There we sat one each side ofhim in cane armchairs. He ordered the drinks, and paid for them. 

"First I will tell you who I am, " he said, when be had swallowed afoot-long whisky peg and wiped his lips with his coat sleeve. "I neverboast. I don't need to! I am Georges Coutlass! I learned that youhave an English lord among your party, and said I to myself 'Aha!There is a man who will appreciate me, who am a citizen of threelands!' Which of you gentlemen is the lord?"

"How can you be a citizen of three countries?" Fred countered. 

"Of Greece, for I was born in Greece. I have fought Turks. Ah! Ihave bled for Greece. I have spilt my blood in many lands, but thebest was for my motherland!--Of England, for I became naturalized. Bybloody-hell-and-Waterloo, but I admire the English! They have guts, those English, and I am one of them! By the great horn spoon, yes, Ibecame an Englishman at Bow Street one Monday morning, price FivePounds. I was lined up with the drunks and pick-pockets, and by Jumbothe magistrate mistook me for a thief! He would have given me sixmonths without the option in another minute, but I had the good luck toremember how much money I had paid my witnesses. The thought of payingthat for nothing--worse than nothing, for six months in jail!--in anEnglish jail!--pick oakum!--eat skilly!--that thought brought me to mysenses. 'By Gassharamminy, ' I said, 'I may be mad, but I'm sober! Ifit's a crime to desire to be English, then punish me, but let me firstcommit the offense!' So he laughed, and didn't question my witnessesvery carefully--one was a Jew, the other an ex-German, and either ofthem would swear to anything at half price for a quantity--and theykissed the Book and committed perjury--and lo and behold, I was Englishas you are--English without troubling a midwife or the parson! Fivepounds for the 'beak' at Bow Street--fifty for thewitnesses--fifty-five all told--and cheap at the price! I had money inthose days. It was after our short war with Turkey. We Greeks gotbeaten, but the Turks did not get all the loot! By prison and gallows, no! When our men ran before a battle, I did not run--not I! Iremained, and by Croesus I grew richer in an hour than I have ever beensince!"

"That's two countries, " said I. "Which is the third that has the honorto claim your allegiance?"

"Honor is right!" he answered with a proud smile. I, Georges Coutlass, have honored three flags! I am a credit to all three countries! Thethird is America--the U. S. A. You might say that is the corollary ofbeing English--the natural, logical, correct sequence! The U. S. Lawsare strict, but their politics were devised for--what is it thepreachers call it--ah, yes, for straining out gnats and swallowingcamels. By George Washington they would swallow a house on fire!There was a federal election shortly due. One of theparties--Democratic--Republican--I forget which--maybe both!--needednew voters. The law says it takes five years to become a citizen. Politics said fifteen minutes! The politicians paid the fees too! Iwas a citizen--a voter--an elector of presidents before I had beenashore three months, and I had sold my vote three times over within amonth of that! They had me registered under three names in threeseparate wards! I didn't need the money--I had plenty in those days--Igave the six dollars I received for my votes to the Holy Church, andvoted the other way to save my conscience; but the fun of the thingappealed! By Gassharamminy! I can't take life the way the copy-bookslay down! I have to break laws or else break heads! But I loveAmerica! I fought and bled for America! By Abraham Lincoln, I foughtthose Spaniards until I don't doubt they wished I had stayed in Greece! Yes, I left that middle finger in Cuba--shot through the left hand bya Don, think of it, a Don! When I came out of hospital--and I neversaw anything worse than that hot hell!--I got myself attached to thecommissariat, and the pickings were none so bad. Had to hand over toomuch, though. That is the worst of America, there is no genuineliberty. You have to steal for the man higher up. If you keep morethan ten per cent. , he squeals. He has to pass most of it on again tosome one else, and so on, and they all land in jail in course of time!Give me a country where a man can keep what he finds! There was talkabout congressional inquiries. Then a friend of mine--a Greek--who hadbeen out here told me of Tippoo Tib's ivory, and it looked all right tome to change scenes for a while. I had citizenship papers--U. S. , andEnglish, and a Greek passport in case of accident. Traveling lookedgood to me. "

"If you traveled on a Greek passport you couldn't use citizenshippapers of any other country, " Fred objected. 

"Who said I traveled on a Greek passport? Do you take me for such afool? Who listens to a Greek consul? He may protest, and accept fees, but Greece is a little country and no one listens to her consuls. Icarry a Greek passport in case I should find somewhere someday a Greekconsul with influence or a Greek whom I wish to convince. I traveledto South Africa as an American. I went to Cape Town with the idea ofgoing to Salisbury, and working my way up from there as a trader intothe Congo. I reached Johannesburg, and there I did a little I. D. B. And one thing and another until the Boer War came. Then I fought forthe Boers. Yes, I have bled for the Boer cause. It was a damned badcause! They robbed me of nearly all my money! They left me to diewhen I was wounded! It was only by the grace of God, and the intriguesof a woman that I made my way to Lourenco Marquez. No, the war was notover, but what did I care? I, Georges Coutlass, had had enough of it!I recompensed myself en route. I do not fight for a bunch of thievesfor nothing! I sailed from Lourenco Marquez to Mombasa. I huntedelephant in British East Africa until they posted a reward for me onthe telegraph poles. The law says not more than two elephants in oneyear. I shot two hundred! I sold the ivory to an Indian, boughtcattle, and went down into German East Africa. The Masai attacked me, stole some of the cattle, and killed others. The Germans, damn andblast them, took the rest! They accused me of crimes--me, GeorgesCoutlass!--and imposed fines calculated carefully to skin me of all Ihad! Roup and rotten livers! but I will knock them head-over-hallelujaone fine day! Not for nothing shall they flim-flam Georges Coutlass!Which of you gentlemen is the lord?"

We bought him another drink, and watched it disappear with oneuninterrupted gurgle down its appointed course. 

"What did you do next?" Fred asked him before be had recovered breathenough to question us. "I suppose the Germans had you at a loose end?"

"Do you think that? Sacred history of hell! It takes more than alousy military German to get Georges Coutlass at a loose end! Theymust get me dead before that can happen! And then, by Blitzen, asthose devils say, a dead Georges Coutlass will be better than athousand dead Germans! In hell I will use them to clean my boots on!At a loose end, was I? I met this bloody rogue Hassan--the fatblackguard who told me you have come to Zanzibar for fish--and made anagreement with him to look for Tippoo Tib's buried ivory. Yes, sir! Ishowed him papers. He thought they were money drafts. He thought me aman of means whom he could bleed. I had guns and ammunition, he none. He pretended to know where some of Tippoo Tib's ivory is buried. "

"Some of it, eh?" said Fred. 

"Some of it, d'you say?" said I. 

"Some of it, yes. A million tusks. Some say two million! Some saythree! Thunder!--you take a hundred good tusks and bury them; you'llsee the hill you've made from five miles off! A hundred thousand tuskswould make a mountain! If any one buried a million tusks in one spotthey'd mark the place on maps as a watershed! They must be buriedhere, there, everywhere along the trail of Tippoo Tib--perhaps athousand in one place at the most. Which of you two gentlemen is thelord?"

"Did Hassan lead you to any of it?" Fred inquired. 

"Not he! The jelly-belly! The Arab pig! He led me to Ujiji--that'son Lake Tanganika--the old slave market where he himself was once soldfor ten cents. I don't doubt a piece of betel nut and a pair ofworn-out shoes had to be thrown in with him at the price! There hetried to make me pay the expenses in advance of a trip to Usumbora atthe head of the lake. God knows what it would have cost, the way hewanted me to do it! Are you the lord, sir?"

"What did you do?" asked Fred. 

"Do? I parted company! I had made him drunk once. (The Arabs aren'tsupposed to drink, so when they do they get talkative and lively!) AndI knew Arabic before ever I crossed the Atlantic--learned it inEgypt--ran away from a sponge-fishing boat when I was a boy. No, theydon't fish sponges off the Nile Delta, but you can smuggle in a spongeboat better than in most ships. Anyhow, I learned Arabic. So Iunderstood what that pig Hassan said when he talked in the dark withhis brother swine. He knew no more than I where the ivory was! Hesuspected most of it was in a country called Ruanda that runs prettymuch parallel with the Congo border to the west of Victoria Nyanza inGerman East Africa, and he was counting on finding natives who couldtell him this and that that might put him on the trail of it! I couldbeat that game! I could cross-examine fool natives twice as well asany fat rascal of an ex-slave! Seeing he had paid all expenses so far, however, I was not much to the bad, so I picked a quarrel with him andwe parted company. Wouldn't you have done the same, my lord?"

But Fred did not walk into the trap. "What did you do next?" he asked. 

"Next? I got a job with the agent of an Italian firm to go north andbuy skins. He made me a good advance of trade goods--melikani, * beads, iron and brass wire, kangas, ** and all that sort of thing, and I didwell. Made money on that trip. Traveled north until I reachedRuanda--went on until I could see the Fire Mountains in the distance, and the country all smothered in lava. Reached a cannibal country, where the devils had eaten all the surrounding tribes until they had totake to vegetarianism at last. "

-----------------* Melikani, the unbleached calico made in America that is the mostuseful trade goods from sea to sea of Central Africa. ** Kanga, cotton piece goods. -----------------

"But did you find the ivory?" Fred insisted. 

"No, or by Jiminy, I wouldn't be here! If I'd found it I'd havesettled down with a wife in Greece long ago. I'd be keeping an inn, and growing wine, and living like a gentleman! But I found out enoughto know there's a system that goes with the ivory Tippoo Tib buried. If you found one lot, that would lead you to the next, and so on. Igot a suspicion where one lot is, although I couldn't prove it. And Imade up my mind that the German government knows darned well where alot of it is!"

"Then why don't the Germans dig it up?" demanded Fred. 

"Aha!" laughed Coutlass. "If I know, why should I tell! If they know, why should they tell? Suppose that some of it were in Congo territory, and some in British East Africa? Suppose they should want to get thelot? What then? If they uncovered their bit in German East Africamightn't that put the Congo and the British on the trail?"

"If they know where it is, " said I, "they'll certainly guard it. "

"Which of you is the lord?" demanded Coutlass earnestly. 

"What do you suppose Hassan is doing, then, here in Zanzibar?" askedFred. 

"Rum and eggs! I know what he is doing! When I snapped my thumb underhis fat nose and told him about the habits of his female ancestors bewent to the Germans and informed against me! The sneak-thief! Theturn-coat! The maggot! I shall not forget! I, Georges Coutlass, forget nothing! He informed against me, and they set askaris* on mytrail who prevented me from making further search. I had to sit idlein Usumbura or Ujiji, or else come away; and idleness ill suits myblood! I came here, and Hassan followed me. The Germans made aregular, salaried spy of him--the semi-Arab rat! The one-tenth Arab, nine-tenths mud-rat! Here he stays in Zanzibar and spies on TippooTib, on me, on the British government, and on every stranger who comeshere. His information goes to the Germans. I know, for I interceptedsome of it! He writes it out in Arabic, and provided no woman goesthrough the folds of his clothes or feels under that silken belly-piecebe wears, the Germans get it. But if a woman does, and she's a friendof mine, that's different! Are you the lord, sir?"

------------------* Askari, native soldier. ------------------

"What do you propose?" asked Fred. 

"Help me find that ivory!" said Coutlass. "I have very little moneyleft, but I have guns, and courage! I know where to look, and I am notafraid! No German can scare me! I am English-American-Greek!--betterthan any hundred Germans! Let us find the ivory, and share it! Let usget it out through British territory, or the Congo, so that no Germansausage can interfere with us or take away one tusk! Gee-rusalem, howI hate the swine. Let us put one over on them! Let us get the ivoryto Europe, and then flaunt the deed under their noses! Let us send onelittle tip of a female tusk to the Kaiser for a souvenir--female inproof it is all illegitimate, illegal, outlawed! Let us send him apiece of ivory and a letter telling him all about it, and what we thinkof him and his swine-officials! His lieutenants and his captains! Letus smuggle the ivory out through the Congo--it can be done! It can bedone! I, Georges Coutlass, will find the ivory, and find the way!"

"No need to smuggle it out, " said Fred. "The British government willgive us ten per cent. , or so I understand, of the value of all of it wefind in British East. "

Georges Coutlass threw back his head and roared with laughter, slappedhis thighs, held his sides--then coughed for two or three minutes, andspat blood. 

"You are the lord, all right!" he gasped as soon as he could getbreath. "No need to smuggle it! Ha-ha! May I be damned! Ten percent. They'll give us! Ha-ha! Generous! By whip and wheel! they'relucky if we give them five per cent. ! I'd like to see any governmenttake away from Georges Coutlass ninety per cent. Of anything without afight! No, gentlemen! No, my Lord! The Belgian Congo government iscorrupt. Let us spend twenty-five per cent. --even thirty-forty-fiftyper cent. Of the value of it to bribe the Congo officials. Hand overninety per cent. To the Germans or the British without a fight?--Never! Never while my name is Georges Coutlass! I have fought too often! Ihave been robbed by governments too often! This last time I will putit over all the governments, and be rich at last, and go home to Greeceto live like a gentleman! Believe me!"

He patted himself on the breast, and if flashing eye and frothing lipwent for anything, then all the governments were as good as defeatedalready. 

"You are the lord, are you not?" he demanded, looking straight at Fred. 

"My name is Oakes, " Fred answered. 

"Oh, then you? I beg pardon!" He looked at me with surprise that hemade no attempt to conceal. Fred could pass for a king with thatpointed beard of his (provided he were behaving himself seemly at thetime) but for all my staid demeanor I have never been mistaken for anykind of personage. I disillusioned Coutlass promptly. 

"Then you are neither of you lords?"

"Pish! We're obviously ladies!" answered Fred. 

"Then you have fooled me?" The Greek rose to his feet. "You havedeceived me? You have accepted my hospitality and confidence underfalse pretense?"

I think there would have been a fight, for Fred was never the man toaccept brow-beating from chance-met strangers, and the Greek's fieryeye was rolling in fine frenzy; but just at that moment Yerkesstrolled in, cheerful and brisk. 

"Hullo, fellers! This is some thirsty burg. Do they sell soft drinksin this joint?" he inquired. 

"By Brooklyn Bridge!" exclaimed Coutlass. "An American! I, too, am anAmerican! Fellow-citizen, these men have treated me badly! They havetricked me!"

"You must be dead easy!" said Yerkes genially. "If those two wanted tolive at the con game, they'd have to practise on the juniorkindergarten grades. They're the mildest men I know. I let that onewith the beard hold my shirt and pants when I go swimming! Trickedyou, have they? Say--have you got any money left?"

"Oh, have a drink!" laughed the Greek. "Have one on me! It's good tohear you talk!"

"What have my friends done to you?" asked Yerkes. 

"I was looking for a lord. They pretended to be lords. "

"What? Both of 'em?"

"No, it is one lord I am looking for. "

"One lord, one faith, one baptism!" said Yerkes profanely. "And you found two? What's your worry? I'll pretend to be a third ifthat'll help you any!"

"Gentlemen, " said the Greek, rising to his full height and letting hisrage begin to gather again, "you play with me. That is not well! Youwaste my time. That is not wise! I come in all innocence, looking fora certain lord--a real genuine lord--the Earl of Montdidier andKirscrubbrightshaw--my God, what a name!"

"I'm Mundidier, " said a level voice, and the Greek faced about like aman attacked. Monty had entered the barroom and stood listening withcalm amusement, that for some strange reason exasperated the Greek lessthan our attitude had done, at least for the moment. When the firstflush of surprise had died he grinned and grew gallant. 

"My own name is Georges Coutlass, my Lord!" He made a sweeping bow, almost touching the floor with the brim of his cowboy hat, and thencrossing his breast with it. 

"What can I do for you?" asked Monty. 

"Listen to me!"

"Very well. I can spare fifteen minutes. "

We all took seats together in a far corner of the dingy room, where theSyrian barkeeper could not overhear us. 

"My Lord, I am an Englishman!" Coutlass began. "I am a God-fearing, law-abiding gentleman! I know where to look for the ivory that theArab villain Tippoo Tib has buried! I know how to smuggle it out ofAfrica without paying a penny of duty--"

"Did you say law-abiding?" Monty asked. 

"Surely! Always! I never break the law! As for instance--in Greece, where I had the honor to be born, the law says no man shall carry aknife or wear one in his belt. So, since I was a little boy I carrynone! I have none in my hand--none at my belt. I keep it here!"

He stooped, raised his right trousers leg, and drew from his Wellingtonboot a two-edged, pointed thing almost long enough to merit the name ofrapier. He tossed it in the air, let it spin six or seven times endover end, caught it deftly by the point, and returned it to itshiding-place. 

"I am a law-abiding man, " he said, "but where the law leaves off, Iknow where to begin! I am no fool!"

Monty made up his mind there and then that this man's game would not beworth the candle. 

"No, Mr. Coutlass, I can't oblige you, " he said. 

The Greek half-arose and then sat down again. 

"You can not find it without my assistance!" he said, wrinkling hisface for emphasis. 

"I'm not looking for assistance, " said Monty. 

"Aha! You play with words! You are not--but you will! I am no fool, my Lord! I understand! Not for nothing did I make a friend again ofthat pig Hassan! Not for nothing have I waited all these months inthis stinking Zanzibar until a man should come in search of that ivorywhom I could trust! Not for nothing did Juma, the lazaretto attendanttell Hassan you desired to see him! You seek the ivory, but you wishto keep it all! To share none of it with me!" He stood up, and madeanother bow, much curter than his former one. "I am Georges Coutlass!My courage is known! No man can rob me and get away with it!"

"My good man, " drawled Monty, raising his eyebrows in the comfortlessway he has when there seems need of facing an inferior antagonist. (Hehates to "lord it" as thoroughly as he loves to risk his neck. ) "Iwould not rob you if you owned the earth! If you have valuableinformation I'll pay for it cheerfully after it's tested. "

"Ah! Now you talk!"

"Observe--I said after it's tested!"

"I don't think he knows anything, " said Fred. "I think he guessed alot, and wants to look, and can't afford to pay his own expenses. Isn't that it?"

"What do you mean?" demanded Coutlass. 

"I can't talk Greek, " said Fred. "Shall I say it again in English?"

"You may name any reasonable price, " said Monty, "for real information. Put it in writing. When we're agreed on the price, put that inwriting too. Then, if we find the information is even approximatelyright, why, we'll pay for it. "

"Ah-h-h! You intend to play a trick on me! You use my information!You find the ivory! You go out by the Congo River and the other coast, and I kiss myself good-by to you and ivory and money! I am to be whatd'you call it?--a milk-pigeon!"

"Being that must be some sensation!" nodded Yerkes. 

"I warn you I can not be tampered with!" snarled the Greek, putting onhis hat with a flourish. "I leave you, for you to think it over! ButI tell you this--I promise you--I swear! Any expedition in search ofthat ivory that does not include Georges Coutlass on his own terms is adelusion--a busted flush--smashed--exploded--pfff !--so--evanescedbefore the start! My address is Zanzibar! Every street child knowsme! When you wish to know my terms, tell the first man or child youmeet to lead you to the house where Georges Coutlass lives! Goodmorning, Lord Skirtsshubrish! We will no doubt meet again!"

He turned his back on us and strode from the room--a man out of themiddle ages, soldierly of bearing, unquestionably bold, and not one bitmore venial or lawless than ninety per cent. Of history's gallants, ifthe truth were told. 

"Let's hope that's the last of him!" said Monty. "Can't say I likehim, but I'd hate to have to spoil his chances. "

"Last of him be sugared!" said Yerkes. "That's only the first of him!He'll find seven devils worse than himself and camp on our trail, if Iknow anything of Greeks--that's to say, if our trail leads after thativory. Does it?"

"Depends, " said Monty. "Let's talk upstairs. That Syrian has longears. "

So we trooped to Monty's room, where the very cobwebs reeked of Arabhistory and lawless plans. He sat on the black iron bed, and wegrouped ourselves about on chairs that had very likely covered theknown world between them. One was obviously jetsam from a steamship;one was a Chinese thing, carved with staggering dragons; the other wasmade of iron-hard wood that Yerkes swore came from South America. 

"Shoot when you're ready!" grinned Yerkes. 

I was too excited to sit still. So was Fred. 

"Get a move on, Didums, for God's sake!" he growled. 

"Well, " said Monty, "there seems something in this ivory business. Ourchance ought to be as good as anybody's. But there are one or twostiff hurdles. In the first place, the story is common property. Every one knows it--Arabs--Swahili--Greeks--Germans--English. To besuspected of looking for it would spell failure, for the simple reasonthat every adventurer on the coast would trail us, and if we did findit we shouldn't be able to keep the secret for five minutes. If wefound it anywhere except on British territory it 'ud be taken away fromus before we'd time to turn round. And it isn't buried on Britishterritory! I've found out that much. "

"Good God, Didums! D'you mean you know where the stuff is?"

Fred sat forward like a man at a play. 

"I know where it isn't, " said Monty. "They told me at the Residencythat in all human probability it's buried part in German East, and byfar the greater part in the Congo. "

"Then that ten per cent. Offer by the British is a bluff?" asked Yerkes. 

"Out of date, " said Monty. "The other governments offer nothing. TheGerman government might make terms with a German or a Greek--not withan Englishman. The Congo government is an unknown quantity, but wouldprobably see reason if approached the proper way. "

"The U. S. Consul tells me, " said Yerkes, "that the Congo government isthe rottenest aggregate of cutthroats, horse-thieves, thugs, yeggs, common-or-ordinary hold-ups, and sleight-of-hand professors that theworld ever saw in one God-forsaken country. He says they're of everynationality, but without squeam of any kind--hang or shoot you as soonas look at you! He says if there's any ivory buried in those partsthey've either got it and sold it, or else they buried it themselvesand spread the story for a trap to fetch greenhorns over the border!"

"That man's after the stuff himself!" said Fred. "All he wanted to dowas stall you off!"

"That man Schillingschen the doctor told us about, " said Monty, "issuspected of knowing where to look for some of the Congo hoard. He'llbear watching. He's in British East Africa at present--said to becombing Nairobi and other places for a certain native. He is known tostand high in the favor of the German government, but poses as aprofessor of ethnology. "

"He shall study deathnology, " said Fred, "if he gets in my way!"

"The Congo people, " said Monty, "would have dug up the stuff, ofcourse, if they'd known where to look for it. Our people believe thatthe Germans do know whereabouts to look for it, but dread putting theCongo crowd on the scent. If we're after it we've got to do two thingsbesides agreeing between ourselves. "

"Deal me in, Monty!" said Yerkes. 

"Nil desperandum, Didums duce, then!" said Fred. "I propose Monty forleader. Those against the motion take their shirts off, and see ifthey can lick me! Nobody pugnacious? The ayes have it! Talk along, Didums!"

For all Fred's playfulness, Yerkes and I came in of our free andconsidered will, and Monty understood that. 

"We've got to separate, " he said, "and I've got to interview the Kingof Belgium. "

"If that were my job, " grinned Yerkes, "I'd prob'ly tell him things!"

"I don't pretend to like him, " said Monty. "But it seems to me I canserve our best interests by going to Brussels. He can't very wellrefuse me a private audience. I should get a contract with the Congogovernment satisfactory to all concerned. He's rapacious--but I thinknot ninety per cent. Rapacious. "

"Good, " said I, "but why separate?"

"If we traveled toward the Congo from this place in a bunch, " saidMonty, "we should give the game away completely and have all therag-tag and bob-tail on our heels. As it is, our only chance ofshaking all of them would be to go round by sea and enter the Congofrom the other side; but that would destroy our chance of picking upthe trail in German East Africa. So I'll go to Brussels, and get backto British East as fast as possible. Fred must go to British East andwatch Schillingschen. You two fellows may as well go by way of BritishEast Africa to Muanza on Victoria Nyanza, and on from there to theCongo border by way of Ujiji. Yerkes is an American, and they'llsuspect him less than any of us (they'd nail me, of course, in aminute!) So let Yerkes make a great show of looking for land to settleon. We'll all four meet on the Congo border, at some other place to bedecided later. We'll have to agree on a code, and keep in touch bytelegraph as often as possible. Now, is all that clear?"

"We two'll have all the Greeks of Zanzibar trailing us all the way!"objected Yerkes. 

"That'll be better than having them trail the lot of us, " said Monty. "You'll be able to shake them somewhere on the way. We'll count onyour ingenuity, Will. "

"But what am I to do to Schillingschen?" asked Fred. 

"Keep an eye on him. "

"Do you see me Sherlock-Holmesing him across the high veld? Piffle!Give America that job! I'll go through German East and keep ahead ofthe Greeks!"

But Monty was firm. "Yerkes has a plausible excuse, Fred. They maywonder why an American should look for land in German East Africa, butthey'll let him do it, and perhaps not spy on him to any extent. It'sme they've their eye on. I'll try to keep 'em dazzled. You go toBritish East and dazzle Schillingschen! Now, are we agreed?"

We were. But we talked, nevertheless, long into the afternoon, and inthe end there was not one of us really satisfied. Over and over wetried to persuade Monty to omit the Brussels part of the plan. Wewanted him with us. But he stuck to his point, and had his way, as healways did when we were quite sure he really wanted it. 

CHAPTER TWO

THE NJO HAPA SONG

Gleam, oh brighter than jewels! gleam my swinging stars in the opal dark, Mirrored along wi' the fire-fly dance of 'longshore light and off-shore mark, The roof-lamps and the riding lights, and phosphor wake of ship and shark. 

 I was old when the fires of Arab ships (All seas were lawless then!) Abode the tide where liners ride To-day, and Malays then, -- Old when the bold da Gama came With culverin and creed To trade where Solomon's men fought, And plunder where the banyans bought, I sighed when the first o' the slaves were brought, And laughed when the last were freed. 

Deep, oh deeper than anchors drop, the bones o' the outbound sailors lie, Far, oh farther than breath o' wind the rumors o' fabled fortune fly, And the 'venturers yearn from the ends of earth, for none o' the isles is as fair as I!

The enormous map of Africa loses no lure or mystery from the fact ofnearness to the continent itself. Rather it increases. In the hotupper room that night, between the wreathing smoke of oil lamps, wepored over the large scale map Monty had saved from the wreck alongwith our money drafts and papers. 

The atmosphere was one of bygone piracy. The great black ceilingbeams, heavy-legged table of two-inch planks, floor laid like a dhow'sdeck--making utmost use of odd lengths of timber, but strong enough tostand up under hurricanes and overloads of plunder, or to batten downrebellious slaves--murmurings from rooms below, where men of every racethat haunts those shark-infested seas were drinking and telling talesthat would make Munchhausen's reputation--steaminess, outer darkness, spicy equatorial smells and, above all, knowledge of the nature of thecoming quest united to veil the map in fascination. 

No man gifted with imagination better than a hot-cross bun's could bein Zanzibar and not be conscious of the lure that made adventurers ofmen before the first tales were written. Old King Solomon's tradersmust have made it their headquarters, just as it was Sindbad theSailor's rendezvous and that of pirates before he or Solomon were bornor thought of. Vasco da Gama, stout Portuguese gentleman adventurer, conquered it, and no doubt looted the godowns to a lively tune. Waveafter wave of Arabs sailed to it (as they do today) from that otherland of mystery, Arabia; and there isn't a yard of coral beach, cocoanut-fringed shore, clove orchard, or vanilla patch--not a lemontree nor a thousand-year-old baobab but could tell of battle andintrigue; not a creek where the dhows lie peacefully today but couldwhisper of cargoes run by night--black cargoes, groaning fretfully andsmelling of the 'tween-deck lawlessness. 

"There are two things that have stuck in my memory that Lord Salisburyused to say when I was an Eton boy, spending a holiday at HatfieldHouse, " said Monty. "One was, Never talk fight unless you mean fight;then fight, don't talk. The other was, Always study the largest maps. "

"Who's talking fight?" demanded Fred. 

Monty ignored him. "Even this map isn't big enough to give a real ideaof distances, but it helps. You see, there's no railway beyondVictoria Nyanza. Anything at all might happen in those great spacesbeyond Uganda. Borderlands are quarrel-grounds. I should say thejunction of British, Belgian, and German territory where Arab loot liesburied is the last place to dally in unarmed. You fellows 'ud betterscour Zanzibar in the morning for the best guns to be had here. "

So I went to bed at midnight with that added stuff for building dreams. He who has bought guns remembers with a thrill; he who has not, hasin store for him the most delightful hours of life. May he fall, asour lot was, on a gunsmith who has mended hammerlocks for Arabs, andwho loves rifles as some greater rascals love a woman or a horse. 

We all four strolled next morning, clad in the khaki reachmedowns thata Goanese "universal provider" told us were the "latest thing, " into aden between a camel stable and an even mustier-smelling home of gloom, where oxen tied nose-to-tail went round and round, grinding out semsemeverlastingly while a lean Swahili sang to them. When he ceased, theystopped. When he sang, they all began again. 

In a bottle-shaped room at the end of a passage squeezed between thosetwo centers of commerce sat the owner of the gun-store, part Arab, partItalian, part Englishman, apparently older than sin itself, toothless, except for one yellow fang that lay like an ornament over his lowerlip, and able to smile more winningly than any siren of the sidewalk. Evidently he shaved at intervals, for white stubble stood out a thirdof an inch all over his wrinkled face. The upper part of his head wasutterly bald, slippery, shiny, smooth, and adorned by an absurd, roundIndian cap, too small, that would not stay in place and had to behitched at intervals. 

He said his name was Captain Thomas Cook, and the license to sellfirearms framed on the mud-brick wall bore him witness. (May he liveforever under any name he chooses!)

"Goons?" he said. "Goons? You gentlemen want goons? I have the goonwhat settled the hash of Sayed bin Mohammed--here it be. This otherone's the rifle--see the nicks on her butt!--that Kamarajes the Greekused. See 'em--Arab goons--slaver goons--smooth-bore elephantgoons--fours, eights, twelves--Martinis--them's the lot that wasreekin' red-hot, days on end, in the last Arab war on the Congo, considerable used up but goin' cheap;--then here's Mausers (hepronounced it "Morsers")-- old-style, same as used in 1870--good goonsthey be, long o' barrel and strong, but too high trajectory for somefolks;--some's new style, magazines an' all--fine till a grain o' sandjams 'em oop;--an' Lee-Enfields, souvenirs o' the Boer War, some o'them bought from folks what plundered a battle-field or two--mostly allin good condition. Look at this one--see it--hold it--take a squintalong it! Nineteen elephants shot wi' that Lee-Enfleld, an' the man'sin jail for shootin' of 'em! Sold at auction by the gov'ment, that onewas. See, here's an Express--a beauty--owned by an officer fr'mIndy--took by a shark 'e was, in swimmin' against all advice, him whathad hunted tigers! There's no goon store a quarter as good as mine'tween Cairo an' the Cape or Bombay an-' Boma! Captain Cook's the boyto sell ye goons all right! Sit down. Look 'em over. Ask anything yewant to know. I'll tell ye. No obligation to buy. "

There is no need to fit out with guns and tents in London. Until bothgood and bad, both cowardly and brave give up the habit of dying inbed, or getting killed, or going broke, or ending up in jail for onecause and the other, there will surely always be fine pickings for menon the spot with a little money and a lot of patience--guns, tents, cooking pots, and all the other things. 

We spent a morning with Captain Thomas Cook, and left the store--Fred, Yerkes and I--with a battery of weapons, including a pistolapiece--that any expedition might be proud of. (Monty, since he had togo home in any case, preferred to look over the family gun-room beforecommitting himself. )

Then, since the first leg of the journey would be the same for all ofus we bought other kit, packed it, and booked passages for British EastAfrica. Between then and the next afternoon when the British Indiasteamboat sailed we were fairly bombarded by inquisitiveness, butcontrived not to tell much. And with patience beyond belief Montyrestrained us from paying court to Tippoo Tib. 

"The U. S. Consul says he's better worth a visit than most of theworld's museums, " Yerkes assured us two or three times. "He saysTippoo Tib's a fine old sport--damned rogue--slave-hunter, but whitesomewhere near the middle. What's the harm in our having a chin withhim?"

But Monty was adamant. 

"A call on him would prove nothing, but he and his friends wouldsuspect. Spies would inform the German government. No. Let's act asif Tippoo Tib were out of mind. "

We grumbled, but we yielded. Hassan came again, shiny with sweat andvoluble with offers of information and assistance. 

"Where you gentlemen going?" he kept asking. 

"England, " said Monty, and showed his own steamer ticket in proof ofit. That settled Hassan for the time but Georges Coutlass was not so easy. He came swaggering upstairs and thumped on Monty's door with the air ofa bearer of king's messages. 

"What do you intend to do?" he asked. (We were all sitting on Monty'sbed, and it was Yerkes who opened the door. )

"Do you an injury, " said Yerkes, "unless you take your foot away!" TheGreek had placed it deftly to keep the door open pending hisconvenience. 

"Let him have his say" advised Monty from the bed. 

"Where are you going? Hassan told me England. Are you all going toEngland? If so, why have you bought guns? What will you do with sixrifles, three shot-guns, and three pistols on the London streets? Whatwill you do with tents in London? Will you make campfires in RegentCircus, that you take with you all those cooking pots? And all thatrice, is that for the English to eat? Bah! No tenderfoot can fool me! You go to find my ivory, d'you hear! You think to get away with itunknown to me! I tell you I have sharp ears! By Jingo; there isnothing I can not find out that goes on in Africa! You think to cheatme? Then you are as good as dead men! You shall die like dogs! Iwill smithereen the whole damned lot of you before you touch a tusk!"

"Get out of here!" growled Yerkes. 

"Give him a chance to go quietly, Will, " urged Monty, and Coutlassheard him. Peaceful advice seemed the last spark needed to explode hiscrowded magazines of fury. He clenched his fists--spat because thewords would not flow fast enough--and screamed. 

"Give me a chance, eh? A chance, eh?" Other doors began opening, andthe appearance of an audience stimulated him to further peaks of rage. "The only chance I need is a sight of your carcasses within range, anda long range will do for Georges Coutlass!" He glared past Yerkes atMonty who had risen leisurely. "You call yourself a lord? I call youa thief! A jackal!"

"Here, get out!" growled Yerkes, self-constituted Cerberus. 

"I will go when I damned please, you Yankee jackanapes!" the Greekretorted through set teeth. Yerkes is a free man, able and willing toshoulder his own end of any argument. He closed, and the Greek's ribscracked under a vastly stronger hug than he had dreamed of expecting. But Coutlass was no weakling either, and though he gasped he gatheredhimself for a terrific effort. 

"Come on!" said Monty, and went past me through the door like a boltfrom a catapult. Fred followed me, and when he saw us both out on thelanding Monty started down the stairs. 

"Come on!" he called again. 

We followed, for there is no use in choosing a leader if you don'tintend to obey him, even on occasions when you fail at once tounderstand. There was one turn on the wide stairs, and Monty stoodthere, back to the wall. 

"Go below, you fellows, and catch!" he laughed. "We don't want Willjailed for homicide!"

The struggle was fierce and swift. Coutlass searched with a thumb forWill's eye, and stamped on his instep with an iron-shod heel. But hewas a dissolute brute, and for all his strength Yerkes' cleaner livingvery soon told. Presently Will spared a hand to wrench at theambitious thumb, and Coutlass screamed with agony. Then he began tosway this way and that without volition of his own, yielding hisbalance, and losing it again and again. In another minute Yerkes hadhim off his feet, cursing and kicking. 

"Steady, Will!" called Monty from below; but it was altogether toolate for advice. Will gathered himself like a spring, and hurled theGreek downstairs backward. 

Then the point of Monty's strategy appeared. He caught him, saved himfrom being stunned against the wall, and, before the Greek couldrecover sufficiently to use heels and teeth or whisk out the knife hekept groping for, hurled him a stage farther on his journey--faceforward this time down to where Fred and I were waiting. We kicked himout into the street too dazed to do anything but wander home. 

"Are you hurt, Will?" laughed Monty. "This isn't the States, you know; by gad, they'll jail you here if you do your own police work! Insteadof Brussels I'd have had to stay and hire lawyers to defend you!"

"Aw--quit preaching!" Yerkes answered. "If I hadn't seen you there onthe stairs with your mouth open I'd have been satisfied to put him downand spank him!"

It was then that the much more unexpected struck us speechless--evenMonty for the moment, who is not much given to social indecision. Wehad not known there was a woman guest in that hotel. One does not lookin Zanzibar for ladies with a Mayfair accent unaccompanied by menfolkable to protect them. Yet an indubitable Englishwoman, expensively ifcarelessly dressed, came to the head of the stairs and stood besideYerkes looking down at the rest of us with a sort of well bred, rathertolerant scorn. 

"Am I right in believing this is Lord Montdidier?" she asked, pronouncing the word as it should be--Mundidger. 

She had been very beautiful. She still was handsome in a hard-lipped, bold way, with abundant raven hair and a complexion that would havebeen no worse for a touch of rouge. She seemed to scorn all theconventional refinements, though. Her lacy white dress, open at theneck, was creased and not too clean, but she wore in her bosom onegreat jewel like a ruby, set in brilliants, that gave the lie topoverty provided the gems were real. And the amber tube through whichshe smoked a cigarette was seven or eight inches long and had diamondsset in a gold band round its middle. She wore no wedding ring that Icould see; and she took no more notice of Will Yerkes beside her thanif he had been a part of the furniture. 

"Why do you ask?" asked Monty, starting upstairs. She had to make wayfor him, for Will Yerkes stood his ground. 

"A fair question!" she laughed. Her voice had a hard ring, but wasvery well trained and under absolute control. I received theimpression that she had been a singer at some time. "I am Lady SaffrenWaldon--Isobel Saffren Waldon. "

Fred and I had followed Monty up and were close behind him. I heardhim mutter, "Oh, lord!" under his breath. 

"I knew your brother, " she added. 

"I know you did. "

"You think that gives me no claim on your acquaintance? Perhaps itdoesn't. But as an unprotected woman--"

"There is the Residency, " objected Monty, "and the law. "

She laughed bitterly. "Thank you, I am in need of no passage home! Ioverheard that ruffian say, and I think I heard you say too that youare going to England. I want you to take a message for me. "

There is a post-office here" said Monty without turning a hair. Helooked straight into her iron eyes. "There is a cable station. I willlend you money to cable with. "

"Thank you, my Lord!" she sneered. "I have money. I am so used tobeing snubbed that my skin would not feel a whip! I want you to take averbal message!"

It was perfectly evident that Monty would rather have met the devil inperson than this untidy dame; yet he was only afraid apparently ofconceding her too much claim on his attention. (If she had askedfavors of me I don't doubt I would have scrambled to be useful. Ibegan mentally taking her part, wondering why Monty should treat her socavalierly; and I fancy Yerkes did the same. )

"Tell me the message, and I'll tell you whether I'll take it, " saidMonty. 

She laughed again, even more bitterly. 

"If I could tell it on these stairs, " she answered, "I could cable it. They censor cablegrams, and open letters in this place. "

"I suspect that isn't true, " said Monty. "But if you object towitnesses, how do you propose to deliver your message to me?" he askedpointedly. 

"You mean you refuse to speak with me alone?"

"My friends would draw out of earshot, " he answered. 

"Your friends? Your gang, you mean!" She drew herself up veryfinely--very stately. Very lovely she was to look at in thathalf-light, with the shadows of Tippoo Tib's* old stairway hiding hertale of years. But I felt my regard for her slipping downhill (and so, I rather think did Yerkes). "You look well, Lord Montdidier, trapesingabout the earth with a leash of mongrels at your heel! Falstaff neverpicked up a more sordid-looking pack! What do you feed them--bones?Are there no young bloods left of your own class, that you need travelwith tradesmen?"

-------------* The principal hotel In Zanzibar was formerly Tippoo Tib's residence, quite a magnificent mansion for that period and place. -------------

Monty stood with both hands behind him and never turned a hair. FredOakes brushed up the ends of that troubadour mustache of his and struckmore or less of an attitude. Will reddened to the ears, and I neverfelt more uncomfortable in all my life. 

"So this is your gang, is it?" she went on. "It looks sober atpresent! I suppose I must trust you to control them! I dare say eventavern brawlers respect you sufficiently to keep a lady's secret if youorder them. I will hope they have manhood enough to hold theirtongues!"

Of course, dressed in the best that Zanzibar stores had to offer wescarcely looked like fashion plates. My shirt was torn where Coutlasshad seized it to resist being thrown out, but I failed to see what shehoped to gain by that tongue lashing, even supposing we had been thelackeys she pretended to believe we were. 

"The message is to my brother, " she went on. 

"I don't know him!" put in Monty promptly. 

"You mean you don't like him! Your brother had him expelled from twoor three clubs, and you prefer not to meet him! Nevertheless, I giveyou this message to take to him! Please tell him--you will find him athis old address--that I, his sister, Lady Saffren Waldon, know now thesecret of Tippoo Tib's ivory. He is to join me here at once, and wewill get it, and sell it, and have money, and revenge! Will you tellhim that!"

"No!" answered Monty. 

I looked at Yerkes, Yerkes looked at Fred, and Fred at me. 

There was nothing to do but feel astonished. 

"Why not, if you please?"

"I prefer not to meet Captain McCauley, " said Monty. 

"Then you will give the message to somebody else?" she insisted. 

"No" said Monty. "I will carry no message for you. "

"Why do you say that? How dare you say that? In front of yourfollowing--your gang!"

I should have been inclined to continue the argument myself--to try tofind out what she did know, and to uncover her game. It was obviousshe must have some reason for her extraordinary request, and her moreextraordinary way of making it. But Monty saw fit to stride past herthrough his open bedroom door, and shut it behind him firmly. We stoodlooking at her and at one another stupidly until she turned her backand went to her own room on the floor above. Then we followed Monty. 

"Did she say anything else?" he asked as soon as we were inside. Inoticed he was sweating pretty freely now. 

"Didums, you're too polite!" Fred answered. "You ought to have toldher to keep her tongue housed or be civil!"

"I don't hold with hitting back at a lone woman, " said Yerkes, "butwhat was she driving at? What did she mean by calling us a pack ofmongrels?"

"Merely her way, " said Monty offhandedly. "Those particular McCauleysnever amounted to much. She married a baronet, and he divorced her. Bad scandal. Saffren Waldon was at the War Office. She stole papers, or something of that sort--delivered them to a German paramour--vonDuvitz was his name, I think. She and her brother were lucky to keepout of jail. Ever since then she has been--some say a spy, some sayone thing, some another. My brother fell foul of her, and lived toregret it. She's on her last legs I don't doubt, or she wouldn't be inZanzibar. "

"Then why the obvious nervous sweat you're in?" demanded Fred. 

"And that doesn't account for the abuse she handed out to us, " saidYerkes. 

"Why not tip off the authorities that she's a notorious spy?" I asked. 

"I suspect they know all about her, " he answered. 

"But why your alarm?" insisted Fred. 

"I'm scarcely alarmed, old thing. But it's pretty obvious, isn't it, that she wants us to believe she knows what we're after. She'svindictive. She imagines she owes me a grudge on my brother's account. It might soothe her to think she had made me nervous. And by gad--itsounds like lunacy, and mind you I'm not propounding it forfact!--there's just one chance that she really does know where theivory is!"

"But where's the sense of abusing us?" repeated Yerkes. 

"That's the poor thing's way of claiming class superiority, " saidMonty. "She was born into one class, married into another, and divorcedinto a third. She'd likely to forget she said an unkind word the nexttime she meets you. Give her one chance and she'll pretend shebelieves you were born to the purple--flatter you until you halfbelieve it yourself. Later on, when it suits her at the moment, she'lldenounce you as a social impostor! It's just habit--bad habit, Iadmit--comes of the life she leads. Lots of 'em like her. Few of 'emquite so well informed, though, and dangerous if you give 'em a chance. "

"I still don't see why you're sweating, " said Fred. 

"It's hot. There's a chance she knows where the ivory is! She hasmoney, but how? She'd have begged if she were short of cash! It's myimpression she has been in German government employ for a number ofyears. Possibly they have paid her to do some spy-work--in theZanzibar court, perhaps--the Sultan's a mere boy--"

"Isn't he woolly-headed?" objected Yerkes. 

"Mainly Arab. It's a French game to send a white woman to intrigue atcolored courts, but the Germans are good imitators. "

"Isn't she English?" asked Yerkes. 

"Her trade's international, " said Monty dryly. "My guess is thatCoutlass or Hassan told her what we're supposed to be doing here, andshe pretends to know where the ivory is in order to trap us all in someway. The net's spread for me, but there's no objection to catching youfellows as well. "

"She'll need to use sweeter bait than I've seen yet!" laughed Yerkes. 

"She'll probably be sweetness itself next time she sees you. She'llargue she's created an impression and can afford to be gracious. "

"Impression is good!" said Yerkes. "I mean it's bad! She has createdone, all right! What's the likelihood of her having double-crossed theGermans? Mightn't she have got a clue to where the stuff is, and beholding for a better market than they offer?"

"I was coming to that, " said Monty. "Yes, it's possible. But whateverher game is, don't let us play it for her. Let her do the leading. Ifshe gets hold of you fellows, one at a time or all together, for thelove of heaven tell her nothing! Let her tell all she likes, but admitnothing--tell nothing--ask no questions! That's an old rule indiplomacy (and remember, she's a diplomat, whatever else she may be!)Old-stagers can divine the Young ones' secrets from the nature of thequestions they ask! So if you got the chance, ask her nothing! Don'tlie, either! It would take a very old hand to lie to her in such waythat she couldn't see through it!"

"Why not be simply rude and turn our backs?" said I. 

"Best of all--provided you can do it! Remember, she's a old hand!"

"D'you mean, " said Yerkes, "that if she were to offer proof that sheknows where that ivory is, and proposed terms, you wouldn't talk itover?"

"I mean let her alone!" said Monty. 

But it turned out she would not be let alone. We dine in the publicroom, but she had her meals sent up to her and we flattered ourselves(or I did) that her net had been laid in vain. Folk dine late in thetropics, and we dallied over coffee and cigars, so that it was going onfor ten o'clock when Yerkes and I started upstairs again. Monty andFred went out to see the waterfront by moonlight. 

We had reached our door (he and I shared one great room) when we heardterrific screams from the floor above--a woman's--one after another, piercing, fearful, hair-raising, and so suggestive in that gloomy, grimbuilding that a man's very blood stood still. 

Yerkes was the first upstairs. He went like an arrow from a bow, and Iafter him. The screams had stopped before we reached the stairhead, but there was no doubting which her room was; the door was partlyopen, permitting a view of armchairs and feminine garments in somedisorder. We heard a man talking loud quick Arabic, and awoman--pleading, I thought. Yerkes rapped on the door. 

"Come in!" said a voice, and I followed Yerkes in. 

We were met by her Syrian maid, a creature with gazelle eyes and timidmanner, who came through the doorway leading to an inner room. 

"What's the trouble?" demanded Yerkes, and the woman signed to us to goon in. Yerkes led the way again impulsively as any knight-errantrescuing beleaguered dames, but I looked back and saw that the Syrianwoman had locked the outer door. Before I could tell Will that, he wasin the next room, so I followed, and, like him, stood rather bewildered. 

Lady Saffren Waldon sat facing us, rather triumphant, in no apparenttrouble, not alone. There were four very well-dressed Arabs standingto one side. She sat in a basket chair by a door that pretty obviouslyled into her bedroom; and kept one foot on a pillow, although Isuspected there was not much the matter with it. 

"We heard screams. Thought you were being murdered!" said Yerkes, outof breath. 

"Oh, indeed, no! Nothing of the kind! I fell and twisted myankle--very painful, but not serious. Since you are here, sit down, won't you?"

"No, thanks, " said he, turning to go. 

"The maid locked the door on us!" said I, and before the words were outof my mouth three of the Arabs slipped into the outer room. There wasno hint or display of weapons of any kind, but they were big men, andthe folds of their garments were sufficiently voluminous to have hiddena dozen guns apiece. 

"She'll open it!" said Will, with inflection that a fool couldunderstand. 

"One minute, please!" said Lady Saffren Waldon. (It was no poorimitation of Queen Elizabeth ordering courtiers about. )

"We didn't come to talk, " said Will. "Heard screams. Made a mistake. Sorry. We're off!"

"No mistake!" she said; and the sweetness Monty prophesied began toshow itself. The change in her voice was too swift and pronounced tobe convincing. "I did scream. I was, in pain. It was kind of you tocome. Since you are here I would like you to talk to this gentleman. "

She glanced at the Arab, an able-looking man, with nose and eyesexpressive of keen thought, and the groomed gray beard that makes anArab always dignified. 

"Some other time, " said Will. "I've an engagement!" And he turned togo again. 

"No--now!" she said. "It's no use--you can't get out! You may as wellbe sensible and listen!"

We glanced at each other and both remembered Monty's warning. Willlaughed. 

"Take seats, " she said, with a very regal gesture. She was notcarelessly dressed, as she had been earlier in the day. From hair tosilken hose and white kid shoes she was immaculate, and she wore rougeand powder now. In that yellow lamplight (carefully placed, no doubt)she was certainly good-looking. In fact, she was good-looking at anytime, and only no longer able to face daylight with the tale of youth. Her eyes were weapons, nothing less. We remained standing. 

"This gentleman will speak to you, " she said, motioning to the Arab tocommence, and he bowed--from the shoulders upward. 

"I am from His Highness the Sultan of Zanzibar" he announced, a littlepompously. "A minister from His Highness. " (In announcing their ownimportance Arabs very seldom err in the direction of under-estimate. )"I speak about the ivory, which I am informed you propose to set out ona journey to discover. "

"Where did you get your information?" Yerkes countered. 

"Don't be absurd!" ordered Lady Safrren Waldon. "I gave it to him!Where else need he go to get it?"

"Where did you get it, then?" he retorted. 

"Never mind! Listen to what Hamed Ibrahim has to say!"

The Arab bowed his bead slightly a second time. 

"The ivory you seek, " he said, "is said to be Tippoo Tib's own, and hewill not tell the hiding-places. It does not belong to him. Suchlittle part of it as ever was his was long ago swallowed by theinterest on claims against him. The whole is now in truth the propertyof His Highness the Sultan of Zanzibar, and whoever discovers it shallreceive reward from the owner. His Highness is willing, through me hisminister, to make treaty in advance in writing with suitable partiesintending to make search. "

"You mean the Sultan wants to hire me to hunt for ivory for him?" Willasked, and the Arab made a gesture of impatience. At that Lady SaffrenWaldon cut in, very vinegary once more. 

"You two men are prisoners! Show much more sense! Come to terms ortake the consequences! Listen! Tippoo Tib buried the ivory. TheSultan of Zanzibar claims it. The German government, for reasons ofits own, backs the Sultan's claim; ivory found in German East Africawill be handed over to him in support of his claim to all the rest ofit. If you--Lord Montdidier and the rest of you--care to sign anagreement with the Sultan of Zanzibar you can have facilities. Youshall be supplied with guides who can lead you to the right place tostart your search from--"

"Thought you wanted Lord Montdidier to say in London that you knowwhere it all is, " Will objected. 

She colored slightly, and glared. 

"Perhaps I am one of the guides, " she said darkly. "I know more than Ineed tell for the sake of this argument! The point is, you can havefacilities if you sign an agreement with the Sultan. Otherwise, youwill be dogged wherever you go! Whatever you should find would beclaimed! Every difficulty will be made for you--every treacheryconceivable practised on you. Lord Montdidier can get influentialbacking, but not influence among the natives! He can not get good menand true information by pulling wires in London. The Britishgovernment once offered ten per cent. Of the value of the ivory found. The Sultan of Zanzibar offers twenty per cent. --"

"Twenty-five per cent. , " corrected Hamed Ibrahim. 

"Yes, but I should want five per cent. For my commission!"

"This sounds like a different yarn to the one you told on the stairsthis afternoon, " said Will. "See Monty and tell it to him. "

"It is for you to tell Lord Montdidier. He runs away from me!"

"I refuse to tell him a word!" said Will, with a laugh like that of aboy about to plunge into a swimming pool--sort of "Here goes!"

"You are extremely ill advised!"

"Do your worst! Monty'll be hunting for us two in about a minute. We're prisoners, are we? Suit yourself!"

"You are prisoners while I choose! You could be killed in this room, removed in sacks, thrown to the sharks in the roadstead, and nobody thewiser! But I have no intention of killing you. As it happens, thatwould not suit my purpose!"

We both glanced behind us involuntarily. It may be that we both hearda footstep, but it is always difficult to say certainly after theevent. At any rate, while in the act of turning our heads, two of thethree Arabs, who had previously left the room, threw nooses over themand bound our arms to our sides with the jiffy-swiftness only sailorsknow. The third man put the finishing touches, and presently adjustedgags with a neatness and solicitude worthy of the Inquisition. 

"Throw them!" she ordered, and in a second our heels were struck fromunder us and I was half stunned by the impact of my head against thesolid floor (for all the floors of that great place were built toresist eternity). 

"Now!" she said. "Show them knives!"

We were shown forthwith the ugliest, most suggestive weapons I haveever seen--long sliver-thin blades sharper than razors. The Arabsknelt on our chests (their knees were harder and more merciless thanwooden clubs) and laid the blades, edge-upward, on the skin of ourthroats. 

"Let them feel!" she ordered. 

I felt a sharp cut, and the warm blood trickled down over my jugular tothe floor. I knew it was only a skin-cut, but did not pretend tomyself I was enjoying the ordeal. 

"Now!" she said. 

The Arabs stepped away and she came and stood between us, looking downat one and then the other. 

"There isn't a place in Africa, " she said, "that you can hide in wherethe Sultan's men can't find you! There isn't a British officer inAfrica who would believe you if you told what has happened in this roomtonight! Yet Lord Montdidier will believe you--he knows youpresumably, and certainly he knows me! So tell Lord Montdidier exactlywhat has happened! Assure him with my compliments that his throat andyours shall be cut as surely as you dare set out after that ivorywithout signing my agreement first. Tell Lord Montdidier he may befriends with me if he cares to. As his friend I will help make himrich for life! As his enemy, I will make Africa too hot and dangerousto hold him! Let him choose!"

She stepped back and, without troubling to turn away, put powder on hernose and chin. 

"Now let them up!" she said. 

The Arabs lifted us to our feet. 

"Loose them!"

The expert of the three slipped the knots like a wizard doing parlortricks; but I noticed that the other two held their knives extremelycautiously. We should have been dead men if we had made a pugnaciousmotion. 

"Now you may go! Unless Lord Montdidier agrees with me, the onlysafety for any of you is away from Africa! Go and tell him! Go!"

"I'll give you your answer now!" said Will. 

"No, you don't!" said I, remembering Monty's urgent admonition to tellher nothing and ask no questions. "Come away, Will! There's nothingto be gained by talking back!"

"Right you are!" he said, laughing like a boy again--this time like aboy whose fight has been broken off without his seeking or consent. Like me, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped blood from his neck. The sight of his own blood--even such a little trickle as that--haspeculiar effect an a man. 

"By Jiminy, she has scratched the wrong dog's ear!" he growled to me aswe went to the door together. 

"They're all in there!" I said excitedly, when the door slammed shutbehind us. "Hurry down and get me a gun! I'll hold the door while yourun for police and have 'em l arrested!"

"Piffle!" he said. "Come on! Three Sultan's witnesses and two lonewhite women against us two--come away! Come away!"

Monty and Fred were still out, so we went to our own room. 

"I'm wondering, " I said, "what Monty will say. "

"I'm not!" said Will. "I'm not troubling, either! I'm not going totell Monty a blessed word! See here--she thinks she knows where someo' that ivory is. Maybe the government of German East Africa is in onthe deal, and maybe not; that makes no present difference. She thinksshe's wise. And she has fixed up with the Sultan to have him claim itwhen found, so's she'll get a fat slice of the melon. There's a schemeon to get the stuff, when who should come on the scene but our littleparty, and that makes 'em all nervous, 'cause Monty's a bad man to beup against. Remember: she claimed that she knows Monty and he knowsher. She means by that that he knows she's a desperado, and she thinkshe'll draw the line at a trip that promises murder and blackmail andsuch like dirty work. So she puts a scare into us with a view to ourthrowing a scare into him. If I scare any one, it's going to be thatdame herself. I'll not tell Monty a thing!"

"How about Coutlass the Greek?" said I. "D'you suppose he's heraccomplice?"

"Maybe! One of her dupes perhaps! I suspect she'll suck him dry ofinformation and cast him off like a lemon rind. I dare bet she's usinghim. She can't use me! Shall you tell Monty?"

"No, " I said. "Not unless we both agreed. "

He nodded. "You and I weren't born to what they call the purple. We're no diplomatists; but we get each other's meaning. "

"Here come Monty and Fred, " said I. "Is my neck still bloody? No, yours doesn't show. "

We met them at the stairhead, and Monty did not seem to notice anything. 

"Fred has composed a song to the moonlight on Zanzibar roadstead whileyou fellows were merely after-dinner mundane. D'you suppose thelandlord 'ud make trouble if we let him sing it?"

"Let's hope so!" said Will. "I'm itching for a row like they saydrovers in Monty's country itch for mile-stones! Let Fred warble. I'll fight whoever comes!"

Monty eyed him and me swiftly, but made no comment. 

"Bill's homesick!" said Fred. "The U. S. Eagle wants its Bowery!We'll soothe the fowl with thoughts of other things--where's theconcertina?"

"No, no, Fred, that'll be too much din!"

Monty made a grab for the instrument, but Fred raised it above his headand brought it down between his knees with chords that crashed likewedding bells. Then he changed to softer, languorous music, and whenhe had picked out an air to suit his mood, sat down and turned artloose to do her worst. 

He has a good voice. If he would only not pull such faces, or make sosure that folk within a dozen blocks can hear him, he might pass for aprofessional. 

"Music suggestive of moonlight!" he said, and began:

 "The sentry palms stand motionless. Masts move againstthe sky. With measured creak of curving spars dhows gently to the jeweled stars Rock out a lullaby. 

 "Silver and black sleeps Zanzibar. The moonlit ripplescroon Soft songs of loves that perfect are, long tales of red- lipped spoils of war, And you--you smile, you moon! For I think that beam on the placid sea That splashes, and spreads, and dips, and gleams, That dances and glides till it comes to me Out of infinite sky, is the path of dreams, And down that lane the memories run Of all that's wild beneath the sun!"

"You fellows like that one? Anybody coming? Nobody for Will to fightyet? Too bad! Well--we'll try a-gain! There's no chorus. It's allpoetic stuff, too gentle to be yowled by three such cannibals as you!Listen!

 "Old as the moonlit silences, to-night's loves are thesame As when for ivory from far, and cloves and gems ofZanzibar King Solomon's men came. 

 "Sinful and still the same roofs lie that knew da Gama's heel, Those beams that light these sleepy waves looked on whenmen threw murdered slaves To make the sharks a meal. And I think that beam on the silvered swell That spreads, and splashes, and gleams, and dips, That has shone on the cruel and brave as well, On the trail o' the slaves and the ivory ships, Is the lane down which the memories run Of all that's wild beneath the sun. "

The concertina wailed into a sort of minor dirge and ceased. Fredfastened the catch, and put the instrument away. 

"Why don't you applaud?" he asked. 

"Oh, bravo, bravo!" said Will and I together. 

Monty looked hard at both of us. 

"Strange!" he remarked. "You're both distracted, and you've each got aslight cut over the jugular!"

"Been trying out razors, " said Yerkes. 

"Um-m-m!" remarked Monty. "Well--I'm glad it's no worse. How aboutbed, eh? Better lock your door--that lady up-stairs is what theGermans call gefaehrlich!* Goo'night!"

-----------* Gefaehrlich, dangerous. -----------

CHAPTER THREE

THE NJO HAPA SONG

Tongues! Oh, music of eastern tongues, harmonied murmur of streets ahum!Trade! Oh, frasila weights of clove--ivory--copra--copal gum--Rubber--vanilla and tortoise-shell! The methods change. The captains come. 

 I was old when the clamor o' Babel's end (All seas were chartless then!) Drove forth the brood, and Solitude Was the newest quest of men. I lay like a gem in a silken sea Unseen, uncoveted, unguessed Till scented winds that waft afar Bore word o' the warm delights there are Where ground-swells sing by Zanzibar Long rhapsodies of rest. 

Wild, oh wilder than winter blasts my wet skies shriek when the winds are freed. Mild, oh milder than virgin mirth is the laugh o' the reefs where sea-birds feed, Screaming and skirling and down again. (Though the sea -birds warn do captains heed?)

There is no public landing wharf at Zanzibar. Passengers have tosubmit their persons into the arms of loud-lunged Swahili longshoremen, who recognize one sole and only point of honor: neither passenger norluggage shall be dropped into the surf. 

Their invariable habit, the instant the view-halloa is raised, is toscamper headlong, pounce on the victim and pull him apart (or so itfeels) until fortune, superior strength, or some such element decidesthe point; and then more oftenthan not it is the victim's fate to be carried between two men, eachhold of a thigh, each determined to get ashore or to the boat first, and each grimly resolved not to let go until three times the proper feeshall have been paid. Of only these two things let the passengerassure himself--fight how he may, he will neither escape their clutchesnor get wet. Rather they will hold him upside-down until the contentsof his pockets fall into the surf. Dry on the beach or into the boatthey will dump him. And whatever he shall pay them will surely beinsufficient. 

But we had a privy councilor of England of our party, and favors wereshown us that never fall to the lot of ordinary travelers. Oppositethe Sultan's palace is the Sultan's private wharf, so royal and privatethat it is a prison offense to trespass on it without writtenpermission. Because of his official call at the Residency, and of hiscard left on the Sultan, wires had been pulled, and a pompousindividual whose black face sweated greasily, and whose palm itched forunearned increment, called on Monty very shortly after breakfast withintimation that the wharf had been placed at our disposal, since HisHighness the Sultan desired to do us honor. 

So when the B. I. Steamer dropped anchor in the great roadstead shortlyafter noon we were taken to the wharf by one of the Sultan'shousehold--a very civil-spoken Arab gentleman--and three Englishofficers met us there who made a fuss over Monty and were at pains tobe agreeable to the rest of us. While we stood chatting and waitingfor the boat that should row us and belongings the mile-and-a-half orso to the steamer, I saw something that made me start. Fred gazedpresently in the same direction. 

"Johnson is number one!" he said, as if checking off my mentalprocesses. He meant Hassan. "Number two is Georges Coutlass, ourfriend the Greek. Number three is--am I drunk this early in theday?--what do you see?--doesn't she look to you like?--by the big blindgod of men's mistakes it's--Monty! Didums, you deaf idiot, look! See!"

At that everybody naturally looked the same way. Everybody nodded. Coutlass the Greek, and Hassan, reputed nephew of Tippoo Tib, wereheaded in one boat toward the steamer, the worse for the handling, butright side up and no angrier than the usual passenger. Following themwas another boat containing a motley assortment of Arabs andpart-Arabs, who might, or might not be associated with them. 

On the beach still, surrounded yet by a swarm of longshoremen whoyelled and fought, Lady Isobel Saffren Waldon and her Syrian maid stoodat bay. Her two Swahili men-servants were overwhelmed and alreadybeing carried to a boat. Her luggage was being borne helter-skelterafter them, and another boat waited for her just beyond the belt ofsurf, the rowers standing up to yell encouragement at the sweating packthat dared not close in on its victims. Lady Isobel Saffren Waldonappeared to have no other weapon than a parasol, but she had plainlythe upper hand. 

"She has a way with her with natives, " said the senior officer present. 

"It's a pity, " said Monty. "I mean, one scarcely likes to use thiswharf and watch that. "

"Quite so. Yet we daren't accord her official recognition. She'd becertain to make capital out of it. We're awfully glad she's going. The Residency atmosphere is one huge sigh of relief. We would like tospeed the parting guest, but it mayn't be done. However, you'll knowthere are others not so particular. I imagine her friends are late forthe appointment. "

"Where's she going?" asked Monty. 

"British East Africa. "

"Mombasa?"

"And then on. She has drafts on a German merchant in Nairobi. "

>From that moment until we were safely in our quarters on the steamerMonty's attitude became one of rigid indifference toward her oranything to do with her. The British officers went out to the steamerwith us, but all the way Monty only talked of the climate, tradeconditions, and the other subjects to which polite conversation ofAfrica's east coast is limited. Fred kept nudging him, but Monty tookno notice. Yerkes whispered to Fred. Then I heard Fred whisper toMonty in one of those raucous asides that he perfectly well knows canbe heard by everybody. 

"Why don't you ask 'em about her, you ass?"

But Monty refused to rise. He talked of the bowed and ancient slavesof Zanzibar, who refused in those days to be set free and affordedprolific ground for attack on British public morals by people whosebusiness it is to abuse England for her peccadillos and forget hervirtues. *

---------------* In 1914 there were still thousands of slaves in German East, althoughthe German press and public were ever loudest in their condemnation ofBritish conditions. ---------------

We reached the ship, and were watching our piles of luggage arrive upthe accommodation ladder when the solution of Lady Isobel SaffrenWaldon's problem appeared. She arrived alongside in the official boatof the German consulate, a German officer in white uniform on eitherhand, and the German ensign at the stern. 

"Pretty fair impudence, paying official honors to our undesirables, yetI don't see what we can do, " said the senior from the Residency. 

Yerkes drew me aside. 

"Did you ever see anything more stupidly British?" he demanded. 

"It's as obvious as the nose on your face that she's up to some game. It's as plain as twice two that the Germans are backing her whether theBritish like it or not. Look at those two Heinies now!"

We faced about and watched them. After bowing Lady Waldon to hercabin, they approached our party with brazen claim to recognition--andreceived it. They were met, and spoken to apparently as cordially asif their friendship had been indisputable. 

"Did you ever see anything to beat it? Why not kick 'em into the sea?Either that woman's a crook or she isn't. If she isn't, then theBritish have treated her shamefully, turning their backs on her. Butwe know she is a crook! And so do they. The Germans know it, too, andthey're flaunting her under official British noses! They're using herto start something the British won't like, and the British know it!Yet she's going to be allowed to travel to British territory on aBritish ship, and the Heinies are shaken hands with! If you complainedto Monty I bet he'd say, 'Don't talk fight unless you mean fight!'"

"Monty might also add, 'Don't talk-fight!"' said I. 

"Oh, rot!" Will answered. "British individuals may bridle a bit, buttheir government'll shut its eyes until too late, whatever happens!You mark my words!"

We strolled back toward our party in great discontent, I as much as he, never supposing there was another country in the world that could sodeliberately shut its eyes to dog's work until absolutely forced tointerfere, by a hair not quite too late. 

Coutlass and Hassan traveled second-class--the Arab and half-Arabcontingent third--and none of them troubled us, at present, except thatWill swore at sight of Coutlass swaggering as if the ship and hercontents were all his. 

"To bear him brag you'd believe the British government afraid of him!"he grumbled. 

But an immediate problem drove Coutlass out of mind. Lady IsobelSaffren Waldon had been given a cabin in line-with ours, at the end ofour corridor. Her maid, and her two Swahili servants were obliged topass our doors to get to her cabin at all. As nearly all ships' cabinson those hot routes do, ours intercommunicated by a metal grill forventilating purposes, and a word spoken in one cabin above a whispercould be heard in the next. 

Fred was the first to realize conditions. He opened his door in hisusual abrupt way to visit Monty's cabin and almost fell over the Syrianmaid, her eye at Monty's key-hole--a little too early in the game topass for sound judgment, as Fred was at pains to assure her. 

The alarm being given, we locked our cabin doors, repaired to thesmoking-room, and ordered drinks at a center table where noeavesdropper could overhear. 

"It's one of two things, " said Monty. He had his folding board out, and we did not doubt he would play chess from there to London. "Eitherthey know exactly where that ivory is, or they haven't the slightestidea. "

"My, but you're wise!" said Will. 

Monty ignored him. "They suspect us of knowing. They mean to preventour getting any of it. If they do know, they've some reason of theirown for not getting it themselves at present. If they don't know, theysuspect we know and intend to claim what we find. "

"How should they think we know?" objected Will. "The first we everheard of the stuff was in the lazaretto in Zanzibar. "

"True. Juma told us. Juma probably told them that we told him. Natives often put the cart before the horse without the slightestintention of lying. "

"All the same, why should they believe him?"

"Why not? Zanzibar's agog with the story--after all these years. Theivory must have been buried more than a quarter of a century ago. Someone's been stirring the mud. We arrive, unexpectedly from nowhere, askquestions about the ivory, make plans for British East Africa--andthere you are! The people who were merely determined to get the stuffjump to the false conclusion that we really know where it is. ''

"Q. E. D. !" said Fred, finishing his drink. 

"Not at all, " said Monty. "There are two things yet to bedemonstrated. They're true, but not proven. The German government isafter the staff. And the German government has very special reasonsfor secrecy and tricks. "

"We four against the German government looks like longish odds, " saidI. 

"Remains to be seen, " said Monty. "If the German government's veryspecial reasons were legal or righteous they'd be announced with afanfare of trumpets. "

"Where's all this leading us?" demanded Fred. 

"To a slight change of plan, " said Monty. 

"Thank the lord! That means you don't go to Brussels--stay with us!"

"Nothing of the sort, Fred. But you three keep together. They'regoing to watch you. You watch them. Watch Schillingschen particularlyclosely, if you find him. The closer they watch you, the more likelythey are to lose sight of me. I'll take care to have several redherrings drawn across my trail after I reach London. Perhaps I'llreturn down the west coast and travel up the Congo River. At any rate, when I do come, and whichever way I come, I'll have everything legal, in writing. Let your game be to seem mysterious. Seem to know morethan you do, but don't tell anybody anything. Above all, listen!"

Fred leaned back in his chair and laughed. 

"Didums!" he said. "This is the idioticest wild goose chase we everstarted on! I admit I nosed it. I gave tongue first. But think of it--here we are--four sensible men--hitherto sensible--off after ivorythat nobody can really prove exists, said to be buried somewhere in atract of half-explored country more than a thousand miles each way--andthe German government, and half the criminals in Africa already on ouridiotic heels!"

"Yet the German government and the crooks seem convinced, too, thatthere's something worth looking for!" laughed Monty. And none of uscould answer that. 

For that matter, none of us would have been willing to withdraw fromthe search, however dim the prospect of sucess might seem in theintervals when cold reason shed its comfortless rays on us. Intuition, or whatever it is that has proved superior so often to worldly wisdom(temptation, Fred calls it!) outweighed reason, and Fred himself wouldhave been last to agree to forego the search. 

The voyage is short between Zanzibar and Mombasa, but there wasincident. We were spied on after very thorough fashion, Lady SaffrenWaldon's title and gracious bearing (when that suited her) beingpractical weapons. The purser was Goanese --beside himself with thefumes of flattery. He had a pass-key, so the Syrian maid went throughour cabins and searched thoroughly everything except the wallet ofimportant papers that Monty kept under his shirt. The first and secondofficers were rather young, unmarried men possessed of limitlessignorance of the wiles of such as Lady Waldon. It was they who signeda paper recommending Coutlass to the B. I. Agents and a lot of otherreputable people in Mombasa and elsewhere, thus offsetting thepossibility that the authorities might not let him land. (Had we knownall that at the time, Monty's word against him might have caused him tobe shipped back whence he came, but we did not find it out untilafterward; nor did we know the law. )

And at Mombasa we made our first united, serious mistake. It was putto the vote. We all agreed. 

"I can come ashore, " said Monty, "introduce you to officialdom, get youput up for the club, and be useful generally. That, though, 'll lendcolor to the theory that you're in league with me--whereas, if I leaveyou to your own resources, that may help lose my scent. When they pickit up again we'll be knowing better where we stand. "

"If you came ashore for a few hours we'd have the benefit of yourprestige, " said I. 

"I admit it. "

"I suspect a title's mighty near as useful on British territory as inN'York or Boston, " said Will. "We'd bask in smiles. "

"Not wholly, " said Monty. "There's another side to that. There's anEnglish official element that would rather be rude to some poor devilwith a title than draw pay (and it loves its pay, you may believe me!). You'd have friends in high places, but make enemies, too, if I goashore with you. "

"What's your own proposal?" Fred demanded. 

"I've stated it. I want you fellows to choose. There's no need of meashore--that's to say, I've a draft to bearer for the amount you threehave in the common fund--here, take it. If you think you'll need morethan that, then I'll have to go to the bank with you and cash some ofmy own draft. I think you'll have enough. "

"Plenty, " said Will. 

"Let's send him home!" proposed Fred. 

"How about communications?" We had contrived a code already with theaid of a pocket Portuguese-English dictionary, of which Fred and Montyeach possessed a similar edition. 

"The Mombasa Bank, Will. You keep them posted as to your whereabouts. When I write the bank manager I'll ask him to keep my address a secret. "

So we said good-by to Monty and left him on board, and wished we hadn'ta dozen times before noon next day, and a hundred times within theweek. The last sight we had of him was as the shore boat camealongside the wharf and the half-breed customs officials pouncedsmiling on us. My eyes were keenest. I could see Monty pacing theupper deck, too rapidly for evidence of peace of mind--astraight-standing, handsome figure of a man. I pointed him out to theothers, and we joked about him. Then the gloom of the customs shedswallowed us, and there was a new earth and, for the present, no moresea. 

The island of Mombasa is so close to the cocoanut-fringed mainland thata railway bridge connects them. Like Zanzibar, it is a place ofstrange delights, and bridled lawlessness controlled by the veriesthandful of Englishmen. There are strange hotels--strangedwellings--streets--stores--tongues and faces. The great grim fortthat brave da Gama built, and held against all comers, dominates thesea front and the lower town. The brass-lunged boys who pounce onbaggage, fight for it, and tout for the grandly named hotels are of asmany tribes as sizes, as many tongues as tribes. 

Everything is different--everything strange--everything, except theheat, delightful. And as Fred said, "some folk would grumble in hell!" Trees, flowers, birds, costumes of the women, sheen of the sea, glintof sun on bare skins of every shade from ivory to ebony, dazzling coralroadway and colored coral walls, babel of tongues, sack-saddled donkeyssleepily bearing loads of coral for new buildings, and--winding in andout among it all--the narrow-gauge tramway on which trolleys pushed bystocky little black men carry officialdom gratis, and the rest of theworld and his wife according to tariff; all those things are thealphabet of Mombasa's charm. Arranged, and rearranged --by chance, byindividual perspective, and by point of view--they spell fascination, attractiveness, glamour, mystery. And no acquaintance with Mombasa, however intimate or old, dispels the charm to the man not guilty ofcynicism. To the cynic (and for him) there are sin--as Africa aloneknows how to sin--disease, of the dread zymotic types--and death; deathpeering through the doors of godowns, where the ivory tusks are piled;death in the dark back-streets of the bazaar, where tired policemenwage lop-sided warfare against insanitary habits and a quiteimpracticable legal code; death on the beach, where cannibal crabsparade in thousands and devour all helpless things; death in the scrub(all green and beautiful) where the tiny streets leave off and snakesclaim heritage; death in the grim red desert beyond the coast-line, where lean, hopeless jackals crack today men's dry bones left fiftyyears ago by the slave caravans--marrowless bones long since strippedclean by the ants. But we are not all cynics. 

Last to be cynic or pessimist was Louis McGregor Abraham, proprietor ofthe Imperial Hotel--Syrian by birth, Jew by creed, Englishman bynationality, and admirer first, last and all the time of all thingsprosperous and promising, except his rival, the Hotel Royal. 

"You came to the right place, " he assured us when the last hot porterhad dumped the last of our belongings on the porch, had ceased fromchattering to watch Fred's financial methods, had been paid double thecustomary price, and had gone away grumbling (to laugh at us behind ourbacks). "They'd have rooked you at the other hole--underfed you, overcharged you, and filled you full of lies. I tell the truth to folkwho come to my hotel. "

And he did, some of it. He was inexhaustible, unconquerable, tireless, an optimist always. He had a store that was part of the hotel, inwhich he claimed to sell "everything the mind of man could wish for inEast Africa"; and the boast was true. He even sold American dimenovels. 

"East Africa's a great country!" he kept assuring us. "Some day we'llall be rich! Have to get ready for it! Have to be prepared! Have tostock everything the mind of man can want, to encourage new arrivalsand make the old ones feel at home. Lose a little money, but whygrumble? Get it back when the boom comes. As it will, mind you. Asit will. Can't help it. Richest country in the world--growanything--find anything--game--climate--elevation--scenery--natives bythe million to do the work--all good! Only waiting for white men withenergy, and capital to start things really moving!"

But there were other points of view. We went to the bank, and foundits manager conservative. The amount of the draft we placed to ourcredit insured politeness. 

"Be cautious, " he advised us. "Take a good look round before youcommit yourselves!"

He agreed to manage the interchange of messages between us and Monty, and invited us all to dinner that evening at the club; so we left thebank feeling friendly and more confident. Later, a chance-met Englishofficial showed us over the old fort (now jail) where men of morebreeds and sorts than Noah knew, better clothed and fed than ever intheir lives, drew endless supplies of water in buckets from da Gama'swell. 

"Some of them have to be kicked out when their sentences expire!" hetold us. "See you at the club tonight. Glad to help welcome you. "

But there was a shock in store, and as time passed the shocks increasedin number and intensity. Our guns had not been surrendered to us bythe customs people. We had paid duty on them second-hand at the ratefor new ones, and had then been told to apply for them at thecollector's office, where our names and the guns' numbers would beentered on the register--for a fee. 

We now went to claim them, and on the way down inquired at a storeabout ammunition. We were told that before we could buy cartridges wewould need a permit from the collector specifying how many, and of whatbore we might buy. There was an Arab in the store ahead of us. He wasbuying Martini Henry cartridges. I asked whether he had a permit, andwas told he did not need one. 

"Being an Arab?" I asked. 

"Being well known to the government, " was the answer. 

We left the store feeling neither quite so confident nor friendly. Andthe collector's Goanese assistant did the rest of the disillusioning. 

No, we could not have our guns. No, we could have no permit forammunition. No, the collector was not in the office. No, he would notbe there that afternoon. It was provided in regulations that we couldhave neither guns, sporting licenses, nor permits for ammunition. Theguns were perfectly safe in the government godown--would not betampered with--would be returned to us when we chose to leave thecountry. 

"But, good God, we've paid duty on them!" Oakes protested. 

"You should not have brought the guns with you unless you desired topay duty, " said the Goanese. 

"But where's the collector?" Yerkes demanded. 

"I am only assistant, " was the answer. "How should I know?"

The man's insolence, of demeanor and words, was unveiled, and the morewe argued with him the more sullen and evasive he grew, until at lasthe ordered us out of the office. At that we took chairs and announcedour intention of staying until the collector should come or be fetched. We were informed that the collector was the most important governmentofficial in Mombasa--information that so delighted Fred that he grewalmost good tempered again. 

"I'd rather twist a big tail than a little one!" he announced. "Shallwe sing to pass the time?"

The Goanese called for the askari, * half-soldier, half-police-man, whodrowsed in meek solitude outside the office door. 

----------------* Askari, soldier. ----------------

"Remove these people, please!" he said in English, and then repeated itin Kiswahili. 

The askari eyed us, shifted his bare feet uncomfortably, screwed up hiscourage, tried to look stern, and said something in his own tongue. 

"Put them out, I said!" said the Goanese. 

"He orders you to put us out!" grinned Fred. 

"The office closes at three, " said the Goanese, glancing at the clockin a half-hearted effort to moderate his own daring. 

"Not unless the collector comes and closes it himself, it doesn't!"Fred announced with folded arms. 

Will pulled out two rupees and offered them to the sentry. 

"Go and bring us some food, " he said. "We intend to stay in here untilyour bwana makubwa* comes. "

--------------* Bwana makubwa, lit. Big master, senior government officer. --------------

The sentry refused the money, waving it aside with the air of a Caesardeclining a crown. 

"Gee!" exclaimed Will. "You've got to hand it to the British if theytrain colored police to refuse money. "

The askari, it seemed, was a man of more than one kind of discretion. Without another word to the Goanese he saluted the lot of us with asweep of his arm, turned on his heel and vanished--not stopping in hishurry to put on the sandals that lay on the door-step. We amusedourselves while he was gone by flying questions at the Goanese, calculated to disturb what might be left of his equanimity withoutgiving him ground for lawsuits. 

"How old are you?"--"How much pay do you get?"--"How long have you heldyour job?"--"Do you ever get drunk?"--"Are you married?"--"Does yourwife love you?"--"Do you keep white mice?"--"Is your lifeinsured?"--"How often have you been in jail?"--"Are you honest?"--"Areyou vaccinated against the jim-jams?"--"Why is your name Fernandez andnot Braganza?"

The man was about distracted, for he had been unwise enough to try toanswer, when suddenly the collector came in great haste and stalkedthrough the office into the inner room. 

"Fernandez!" he called as he passed, and the Goanese hurried after him, hugely relieved. There was five minute's consultation behind thepartition in tones too low for us to catch more than a word or two, andthen Fernandez came out again with a "Now wait and see, my hearties!"smile on his face. He was actually rubbing his palms together, sure ofa swift revenge. 

"He says you are to go in there, " he announced. 

So we filed in, Fred Oakes first, and it seemed to me the moment I sawthe collector's face that the outlook was not so depressing. He lookedneither young nor incompetent. His jaw was neither receding nor tooprominent. His neck sat on his shoulders with the air of fullresponsibility, unsought but not refused. And his eyes looked straightinto those of each of us in turn with a frank challenge no honestfellow could resent. 

"Take seats, won't you, " he said. "Your names, please?"

We told him, and he wrote them down. 

"My clerk tells me you tried to bribe the askari. You shouldn't dothat. We are at great pains to keep the police dependable. It's toobad to put temptation in their way. "

Will, with cold precision, told him the exact facts. He listened tothe end, and then laughed. 

"One more Goanese mistake!" he said. "We have to employ them. Theymean well. The country has no money to spend on European officeassistants. Well--what can I do for you?"

At that Fred cut loose. 

"We want our guns before dark!" he said. "It's the first time mycharacter has been questioned by any government, and I say the same formy friends!"

"Oh?" said the collector, eying us strangely. 

"Yes!" said Fred. 

"That is so, " said I. 

"Entirely so, " said Will. 

"I have information, " said the collector, tapping with a pencil on hisblotter, "that you men are ivory hunters. That you left Portugueseterritory because the German consul there had to request the Portuguesegovernment to expel you. "

"All easily disproved, " said Fred. "Confront us, please, with ouraccusers. "

"And that Lord Montdidier, with whom you have been traveling, became sodisgusted with your conduct that he refused to land with you at thisport as he at first intended!"

We all three gasped. The first thing that occurred to me, and Isuppose to all of us, was to send for Monty. His steamer was notsupposed to sail for an hour yet. But the thought had hardly flashedin mind when we heard the roar of steam and clanking as the anchorchain came home. The sound traveled over water and across roofs likethe knell of good luck--the clanking of the fetters of ill fate. 

"Where's her next stop?" said I. 

"Suez, " Fred answered. 

Simultaneously then to all three the thought came too that thisinterpretation of Monty's remaining on board was exactly what wewanted. The more people suspected us of acting independently of himthe better. 

"Confront us with our accusers!" Fred insisted. 

"You are not accused--at least not legally, " said the collector. "Youare refused rifle and ammunition permits, that is all. "

"On the ground of being ivory hunters?"

"Suspected persons--not known to the government--something ratherstronger than rumor to your discredit, and nothing known in your favor. "

"What recourse have we?" Fred demanded. 

"Well--what proof can you offer that you are bona fide travelers orintending settlers? Are you ivory hunters or not?"

"I'll answer that, " said Fred--dexterously I thought, "when I've seen acopy of the game laws. We're law-abiding men. "

The collector handed us a well thumbed copy of the Red Book. 

"They're all in that, " he said. "I'll lend it to you, or you can buyone almost anywhere in town. If you decide after reading that to gofarther up country I'm willing to issue provisional game licenses, subject to confirmation after I've looked into any evidence you care tosubmit on your own behalf. You can have your guns against a cashdeposit--"

"How big?"

"Two hundred rupees for each gun!'

Fred laughed. The demand was intended to be away over our heads. Thecollector bridled. 

"But no ammunition, " he went on, "until your claim to respectabilityhas been confirmed. By the way, the only claim you've made to me isfor the guns. You've told me nothing about yourselves. "

"Two hundred a gun?" said Fred. "Counting a pistol or revolver asone?" Three guns apiece--nine guns--eighteen hundred rupees' deposit?"

The collector nodded with a sort of grim pleasure in his ownunreasonableness. Fred drew out our new check book. 

"You fellows agreeable?" he asked, and we nodded. 

"Here's a check on the Mombasa Bank for ten thousand, and yourgovernment can have as much more again if it wants it, " he said. "Makeme out a receipt please, and write on it what it's for. "

The collector wrote. He was confused, for he had to tear up more thanone blank. 

"I suppose we get interest on the money at the legal local rate?" askedFred maliciously. 

"I'll inquire about that, " said the collector. 

"Excuse me, " said Fred, "but I'm going to give you some advice. Whileyou're inquiring, look into the antecedents of Lady Isobel SaffrenWaldon! It's she who gave out the tip against us. Her tip's a badone. So is she. "

"She hasn't applied for guns or a license, " the collector answeredtartly. "It's people who want to carry firearms--people ableand likely to make trouble whom we keep an eye on. "

"She's more likely to make trouble for you than a burning house!" putin Will Yerkes. "If my partner hadn't paid you that check I'd be allfor having this business out! I'm going to let them know in the Stateswhat sort of welcome people receive at this port!"

"You came of your own accord. You weren't invited, " the collectoranswered. 

"That's a straight-out lie!" snapped Will. "You know it's a lie! Why, there isn't a newspaper in South Africa that hasn't been carrying adsof this country for months past. Even papers I've had sent me from theStates have carried press-agent dope about it. Why, you've beenyelling for settlers like a kid squalling for milk--and you say we'renot invited now we've come here! I'm going to write and tell the U. S. Papers what that dope is worth!"

"Ivory hunters are not settlers, " the collector interjected. 

"Who said we're ivory hunters?" Will was in a fine rage, and Fred andI leaned back to enjoy the official's discomfort. "Besides, your adsbragged about the big game as one of the chief attractions! All theinformation you can possibly have against us must have come from afemale crook in the pay of the German government! You're not behavingthe way gentlemen do where I was raised!"

"There is no intention to offend, " said the collector. 

"Intention is good!" said Will, laughing in spite of himself. "There'sanother thing I want to know. What about ammunition? We're to haveour guns. They're useless without cartridges. What about it?"

"The guns shall be sent to your hotel tonight. The provisionalsporting licenses--if you want them--will be ready tomorrowmorning--seven hundred and fifty rupees apiece--I'll charge themagainst your deposit. If the licenses should be confirmed afterinquiry, I will send you permits through the post for fifty rounds ofammunition each. "

Will snorted. Fred Oakes yelled with laughter, and I gaped withindignation. 

"I'm going into this to the hilt!" spluttered Fred. "I wouldn't havemissed it for a fortune! We three are going to constitute ourselves acommittee of inspection. We're going to wander the country over andreport home to the newspapers--South African--British--U. S. A. --andany other part of the world that's interested! We won't worry aboutammunition. Send us permits for whatever quantity seems to you proper, and we'll note it all down in our diaries!"

We all stood up, the collector obviously uncomfortable and we, if notat ease, at least happier than we had been. 

Fred nodded to the collector genially, and we all walked out. 

Mombasa is a fairly large island, but the built-over part of it issmall, so it was not surprising that we should emerge from the officeface to face with Lady Saffren Waldon. She was the one surprised, notwe. She probably thought she had spiked our guns in that part of theworld forever, and the sight of us coming laughing from the very officewhere we should have been made glum must have been disconcerting. 

She was riding on one of the little trolley-cars, pushed by two boys inwhite official uniform, dressed in her flimsiest best, a lace parasolacross her knee, and beside her an obvious member of thegovernment--young, and so recently from home as not to have lost hispink cheeks yet. 

Had there not been an awning over the trolley-car she might have usedthe parasol to make believe she had not seen us. But the awningprecluded that, and we were not more than two or three yards away. 

"Laugh!" whispered Fred. 

So we crossed the track laughing and the trolley had to pause to let usby. We laughed as we raised our helmets to her--laughed both at herand at the pink and white puppy she had taken in leash. And then thesort of thing happened that nearly always does when men with areasonable faith in their own integrity make up their minds to seeopprobrium through. Fate stepped hard on our arm of the balance. 

If built-over Mombasa is a small place, so is Africa. So is the world. Striding down the hill from the other hotel, the rival one, the Royal, came a man so well known in so many lands that they talk of naming atenth of a continent after him--the mightiest hunter since Nimrod, andvery likely mightier than he; surely more looked-up to andrespected--a little, wiry-looking, freckled, wizened man whose beardhad once been red, who walked with a decided limp and blinked geniallyfrom under the brim of a very neat khaki helmet. 

"Why, bless my soul if it isn't Fred Oakes!" he exclaimed, in asqueaky, worn-out voice that is as well known as his face, andquickened his pace down-hill. 

"Courtney!" said Fred. "There's only one man I'd rather meet!"

The little man laughed. "Oh, you and your Montdidier are stillinseparable, I suppose! How are you, Fred? I'm glad to see you. Whoare your friends?"

At that minute out came the collector from his office--stood on thestep, and stared. Fred introduced us to Courtney, and I experiencedthe thrill of shaking hands with the man accounts of whose exploits hadfired my schoolboy imagination and made stay-at-home life forever afteran impossibility. 

"I missed the steamer, Fred. Not another for a week. Going down nowto see about a passage to Somaliland. I suppose you'll be at the clubafter dinner?"

"No" said Fred. "We've an invitation, but I think we'll send a noteand say we can't come. We'll dine at our hotel and sit on the verandaafterward. "

I wondered what Fred was driving at, and so did the collector who washeaded across the street and listening with all ears. 

"That so? Not a bad idea. They've very kindly made me an honorarymember of the club, but I rather expect there's a string to that--eh, Fred, don't you? They'll expect stories, --stories. I get tired oftelling the same tales so many times over. Suppose I join you fellows, eh? I'm at the Royal. You at the other place? Suppose I join youafter dinner, and we have a pipe together on the veranda?"

"Nothing I'd like better, " said Fred, and I felt too pleased with theprospect to say anything at all. Growing old is a foolish andunnecessary business, but there is no need to forego while young thethrills of unashamed hero-worship; in fact, that is one of the ways ofcontinuing young. It is only the disillusioned (poor deceived ones)and the cynics, who grow old ungracefully. 

We went upstreet, through the shadow of the great grim fort. Thetrolley-car trundled down among the din, smells and colors of thebusiness-end of town. Looking over my shoulder I saw Courtney talkingto the collector. 

"We're getting absolution, Fred!" said I. 

"I'm not sure we need it, " Fred answered. "I hope Courtney won't telltoo much!" So quickly does a man jump from praying for friends atcourt to fearing them!

"Courtney looked to me, " said Will, "like a man who would give no gamesaway. "

Glad you think that of him" said Fred. 

"Why?"

"Tell you later, maybe. "

But he did not tell until after dinner. (It was a good dinner for EastAfrica. Shark steak figured in it, under a more respectable name; andthere was zebu hump, guinea-fowl, and more different kinds of fruitthan a man could well remember. ) When it was over we sat in deeparmchairs on the long wide veranda that fronts the whole hotel. Theevening sea-breeze came and wafted in on us the very scents of Araby;the night sounds that whisper of wilderness gave the lie to a tinklingguitar that somewhere in the distance spoke of civilized delights. Thesurf crooned on coral half a mile away, and very good cigar smoke (froma box that Monty had sent ashore with our belongings) supplementedcoffee and the other aids to physical contentment. Then, limpingbetween the armchairs, and ashamed that we should rise to greethim--motioning us down again with a little nervous laugh--Courtney cameto us. Within five minutes of his coming the world, and the clock, andthe laws of men might have all reversed themselves for aught we cared. Without really being conscious he was doing it Courtney plunged intoour problem, grasped it, sized it up, advised us, flooded us withpriceless, wonderful advice, and did it with such almost femininesympathy that I believe we would have been telling him our love-affairsat last, if a glance at the watch he wore in a case at his belt had nottold him it was three A. M. 

"There's trouble" he began when he had filled his pipe. "You boys arein trouble. What is it?" he asked, shifting and twitching in hisseat--refusing an armchair--refusing a drink. 

"Tell us first what's the matter with you, " said Fred. 

"Oh, nothing. An old wound. A lion once dragged me by this shoulderhalf a mile or so. At this time of year I get pains. They last a dayor two, then pass--Go on, tell me!"

He never sat really still once that whole evening, yet never oncecomplained or made a gesture of impatience. 

"I propose, " said Fred, with a glance at Yerkes and me, "to tellCourtney everything without reserve. "

The little old hunter nodded, watching us with bright blue eyes. Ireceived the impression that he knew more secrets than he could tellshould he talk down all the years that might be left him. He was thesort of man in whom nearly every one confides. 

"We're after Tippoo Tib's ivory!" said Fred, plunging into the middleof things. "Monty has gone to drive a bargain with the King ofBelgium. Do you think it's a wild goose chase?"

Courtney chuckled. "No, " he said. "I wouldn't call it that. They'vebeen killing elephants in Africa ever since the flood. Ivory must haveaccumulated. It's somewhere. Some of it must be so old and wellseasoned as to be practically priceless, unless rats have spoiled it. Rats play old Harry with ivory, you know. "

"Have you a notion where it is?" demanded Fred. 

Courtney laughed. "Behold me leaving the country!" he said. "If I knew I'd look. If I saw I'd take!"

"Can you give us a hint?"

"There are caves near the summit of Mount Elgon that would hold theworld's revenues. None of them have ever been thoroughly explored. Cannibals live in some of them. Cannibals and caverns is a combinationthat might appeal to Tippoo Tib, but there's no likelihood that heburied all that ivory in one place, you know. I suspect the greaterpart is in the Congo, and that the Germans know its whereabouts withina mile or two. "

"How did they discover it?"

"Why don't they dig it out?"

"What keeps 'em from turning their knowledge into money?"

We had forgotten our own troubles. Courtney, too, seemed to forget forthe moment that he had began by asking us a question. 

"Remember Emin Pasha? When was it--'87--'88--'89 that Stanley went andrescued him? Perhaps you recall what was then described as Emin'singratitude after the event? British government offered him a billet. Khedive of Egypt cabled him the promise of a job, all on Stanley'srecommendation. Emin turned 'em all down and accepted a job from theGermans. Nobody understood it at the time. My own idea is that Eminthought he knew more or less where that hoard is. He didn't reallywant to come away with Stanley, you know. Being a German, I suppose hepreferred to share his secret with his own crowd. I dare say hethought of telling Stanley but judged that the 'Rock breaker' mightdemand a too large share. The value of the stuff must be so enormousthat it's almost worth going to war about, from the point of view of anation hungry for new colonies. Emin is dead, and it's likely he leftno exact particulars behind him. To my personal knowledge the Germanshave had a swarm of spies for a long time operating beyond the Congoborder. "

"Were you looking for the stuff yourself?" I asked. 

"Oh, no, " he laughed. "But when I'm hunting I look about me. I'lltell you where the stuff may possibly be. There's a section of countrycalled the Bahr el Gazal that the Congo people claim, but that Ibelieve will eventually prove to lie on the British side of theboundary. It was good elephant country--which is to say bad living andtraveling for man--since the earth took shape out of ooze. Awfulswampy, malarious, densely wooded, dangerous country, sparselyinhabited by savages not averse to cannibalism when they'veopportunity. The ivory may be there. If the Germans know it's therethey're naturally afraid the British government would claim the wholedistrict the minute the secret was out. Their plan may possibly be towait until a boundary dispute arises in the ordinary course of time(keeping a cautious eye on the cache meanwhile, of course) and thentake the Congo government side. If they can contrive to have itacknowledged as Congo territory, they might then pick a quarrel withthe Congo government--or come to some sort of terms with them. "

"They've patience, " I said, "if they're playing that game!"

Courtney raised his eyebrows until his forehead was a mass of deepwrinkles. Then he blew a dozen smoke rings. 

"Patient--perhaps. It's my impression they're as remorseless andpersistent as white ants--undermining, digging, devouring everywherewhile the rest of the world sleeps. Do you remember there was a mutinyof native troops in Uganda not many years ago? Some said that wasbecause the troops were being paid in truck instead of money, and likemost current excuses that one had some truth in it. But the menthemselves vowed they were going to set up an African Muhammedanempire. "

"What had that to do with Germans?" asked Fred. 

"Nothing that I can personally prove" said Courtney. "But I've a broadacquaintance among natives, and considerable knowledge of theirtongues. Muhammedanism is spreading among them very rapidly. Over andover again, beside camp-fires, and in the dark when they thought I wasnot listening, I have heard them talk of missionaries from Germanterritory who spread a doctrine of what you might call pan-Islam forlack of a better name. I said at the time of the Uganda mutiny that Ibelieved Germans were behind it. I've seen no reason to change myopinion since. It's obvious that if the mutiny had by some ill chancesucceeded Uganda would have been an easy prey for Karl Peters and hisGermans. If that ivory of Tippoo Tib's is really in the Bahr el Gazalat the back of Uganda, then the German motive for stirring up theUganda mutiny would be obvious. "

"But doesn't our government know all this?" demanded Fred. 

"That depends on what you mean by the word know, " answered Courtney. "I've made no secret of my own opinion!"

"But they wouldn't listen?"

"Some did, some didn't. The Home government--which was the IndiaOffice in those days--took no notice whatever. One or two men out herebelieved, but I think they're dead. When the Foreign Office took thecountry over I don't suppose they overhauled old reports verycarefully. I dare say my letters on the subject lie inches deep indust. "

"England doesn't deserve to keep her colonies!" vowed Fred, caught in asudden flood of indignation. 

Courtney laughed. 

"When you've seen as many of the other nations' colonies as I haveyou'll qualify that verdict! We do our best. God gave us our work todo, and the devil came and made us stupid! Take this country, forinstance. "

"Yes!" agreed Fred. "Take this country! We came ashore today--leftMonty on board ship on his way to Europe. Nobody knew a thing aboutus. A female woman, known to the police in Zanzibar and so notoriousin Europe that she's in no hurry to go home--said, too, on every handto be in the pay of the German government--chose to tell lies about usto the chuckle-headed puppies in charge of Mombasa. Net result--whatdo you suppose?"

"I know, " said Courtney. "I've been told this evening. " His eyeschanged, and his voice took on the almost feminine note of appeal thatcame strangely from a big game hunter. "You boys must overlook things. These boys you're angry with are younger than you, Fred. Thatcollector you've contrived to pick a quarrel with has fought Arabs andcannibal troops--odds against him of fifty or a hundred to one, mindyou--all across the Congo and back again. He fought in the Ugandamutiny. He's a man. He's a merchant, though, with a merchant'seducation. He was taken over with the rest of the clerks when theBritish government superseded the British East Africa Trading Company. He has never had the advantage of legal training. Went to a commonschool. No advantages of any kind. Poorly paid and overworked. There's no money in the country yet. Nobody to tax. Salaries--expenses and so on come from home, voted by Parliament. Aslong as that condition lasts they're all going to feel nervous. Theyknow they'll get the blame for everything that goes wrong, and preciouslittle credit in any case. Parliament advertised the country in answerto their complaints of no revenue. Parliament called for settlers. But they're not ready for settlers. They don't know how to handlethem. They've no troops--nothing but a handful of black police. Howshall they keep in order colonials armed with repeating rifles?They're not ready. The Uganda Railway isn't finished yet; trains getthrough to Victoria Nyanza once a week, but there's endless work to bedone yet on the line, and Parliament grudges them every penny theyspend on it. Yet the railway was rushed through by order of Parliamentto prevent Doctor Karl Peters and the Germans from claiming occupationof the head-waters of the Nile and so dominating Upper Egypt. You boysmust be considerate. "

"All right, " said Fred. "I'll grant all that. "

"But what gets me" Will interrupted, "is that they should condemn usout-of-hand--on sight--untried--on the say-so of this Lady SaffrenWaldon. She carries German letters of credit. She's so notoriously inleague with Germans that you'd think even these little Napoleons 'udknow it. I'm American myself, thank God, but these two men are theirown kith and kin. Why should they judge their own countrymen unheardon the say-so of a woman like that? That's what rattles me!"

Courtney blew six smoke rings. 

"You'll have to forgive them, lad. Too many of the Englishmen who havecome here were bad bats from the South, so hot-footed that they burnedthe grass. Then--don't forget that the Germans have a militarygovernment to the south of us--all experienced men--a great many ofthem unmitigated rascals, but nearly all of them clever--students ofstrategy and psychology and tactics--some of them brilliant men whohave had to apply for colonial service because of debt or scandal. They're overmanned where we are under-manned--backed up from home whereour boys are only blamed and neglected--well supplied with troops andammunition, where our police are kept down to the danger point and nowand then even without cartridges. The Germans have no railway yet, butthey've a policy and they keep it secret. We have a railway, and nopolicy except retrenchment and economy. I'm convinced the Germangovernment has no scruples. We have. So you must sympathize with ouryoung men, not quarrel with them. "

"Believe me, " I said, "we didn't start out to quarrel with anybody. That woman lied about us. There's no excuse for believing her withoutgiving us a hearing. "

"Oh, yes there is. I spoke with her myself this evening, " saidCourtney. "She's staying at my hotel, you know. She's a match formuch more experienced men than our young officials. They've beenfighting Arabs, not flirting. She had the impudence to try to flatterme. I don't doubt she's telling a crowd of men tonight that I'm inlove with her--perhaps not exactly telling them that, but giving themto understand it. Why don't I stroll down to the club and deny it?For the same reason that you don't openly denounce her! It's semi- orwholly-sentimental chivalry--rank stupidity, if you like to call itthat, but it's national, I'm glad to say, and I'm as proud of it as anyone. "

"Doesn't it look to you, " said Fred, "that if she and the Germangovernment are so infernally anxious to spoil our chances--and theysuspect what we're after, you know--doesn't it look to you as if theremay really be something in this quest of ours?"

"Undoubtedly, " said Courtney. "There's ivory in it, tons and tons andtons of ivory. Somebody will find it some day. "

"Join us then!" said Fred. "Cancel your trip to Somaliland and comewith us! I can speak for Monty. I know he'll welcome you into thepartnership!"

"I believe I could almost speak for Monty, too, " laughed Courtney. "Heand I were at Eton together, and we've never ceased being friends. ButI can't come with you. No. I'm making a sort of semi-official trip. I shall hunt, of course, but there are observations to be made. Thepan-Islamic theory is said to be making headway also in Somaliland. "

"Do you feel you have any lien on the Elgon Caves and Bahr el Gazalclues?" Fred asked. 

"No. I make you a present of those ideas. I'm sure I hope you findthe stuff. I'm wondering, though--I'm wondering. "

"I'll bet you a dollar I'm thinking of the same thing, " said Will. 

"Out with it, then. "

"What's to prevent the Germans from making their own dicker with theKing of the Belgians or with the Congo government, and rifling thehoard on a fifty-fifty or some such basis?"

"Correct, " said Courtney. "I confess myself puzzled about that. But Iknow no European politics. There may be a thousand reasons. And then, you know, the King of the Belgians has the name of being a graspingdealer. The management of his private zone on the Congo isunspeakable. It's possible the Germans may prefer not to risk puttingHis Majesty on the scent. "

"Well, we've our work cut out, " said Fred, laughing and yawning. "Thatwoman has started us off with a bad name. "

"That is one thing I can really do for you, " Courtney answered. "I'veno official standing, but the boys all listen to me. I'll tell them--"

"For the love of God don't tell them too much!" Fred exclaimed. 

"I'll tell them you're friends of mine, " he went on. "I believe thatwill solve the sporting license and ammunition problem. As for thewoman--if I were in your shoes I would steal a march on her. Iwouldn't be surprised if your licenses and ammunition permits were hereat the hotel by ten tomorrow morning. I see they've sent your gunsalready. Well, there's a train for Nairobi tomorrow noon, and notanother for three days. I'd take tomorrow's train if I were you. Ialways find in going anywhere the start's the principal thing. You'llgo?"

"We will, " we answered, one after the other. 

"Good night, then, boys; I'll be going. "

But we walked with him down to his hotel--I, and I think the others, full to the teeth with the pleasure of knowing him, as well as of envyof his scars, his five or six South African campaigns, his adventures, and (by no means least) his unblemished record as a gentleman. Merelya little bit of a man with a limp, but better than a thousand men wholacked his gentleness. 

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NJO HAPA SONG

Delights--ah, Ten are the dear delights (and the Book forbids them, one by one)--The broad old roads of a thousand loves--back turned to the Law--the lawless fun--Old Arts for new--old hours reborn--and who shall mourn when the sands have run?

 I was old when they told the Syren Tales (All ears were open then!) And the harps were afire with plucked desire For the white ash oars again-- For oars and sail, and the open sea, High prow against pure blue, The good sea spray on eye and lip, The thrumming hemp, the rise and dip, The plunge and the roll of a driven ship As the old course boils anew!

Sweetly I call, the captains come. The home ties draw at hearts in vain. Potent the spell of Africa! Who East and South the course has ta'enBy Guardafui to Zanzibar may go, but he, shall come again. 

Courtney proved better than his word. Our Big Game Licenses arrivedafter breakfast, and permits for five hundred rounds of rifleammunition each. In an envelope in addition was Fred's check with thecollector's compliments and the request that we kindly call and pay forthe licenses. In other words we now had absolution. 

We called, and were received as fellow men, such was the genius ofCourtney's friendship. A railway man looked in. The collector's dimoffice became awake with jokes and laughter. 

"Going up today?" he asked. "I'll see you get berths on the train. "

We little realized at the moment the extent of that consideration; butunderstanding dawned fifteen minutes before high noon when we strolledto the station behind a string of porters carrying our luggage. Courtney was there to see us off, and he looked worried. 

"I'm wondering whether you'll ever get your luggage through, " he saidwith a sort of feminine solicitude. It was strange to hear the hero ofone's school-days, mighty hunter and fearless leader of forlorncampaigns, actually troubled about whether we could catch our train. But so the man was, gentle always and considerate of everybody buthimself. 

There was law in this new land, at all events along the railway line. Not even handbags or rifles could pass by the barrier until weighed andpaid for. Crammed in the vestibule in front of us were fifty peoplefretfully marshalling in line their strings of porters lest any latercomer get by ahead of them; foremost, with his breast against theticket window, was Georges Coutlass. Things seemed not to beproceeding as he wished. 

There was one babu behind the window--a mild, unhappy-looking Punjabi, or Dekkani Mussulman. There was another at the scales, who knew almostno English: his duty was to weigh--do sums--write the result on aslip, and then justify his arithmetic to office babu and passenger, before any sort of progress could be made. The fact that allpassengers shouted at him to hurry or be reported to big superiorscomplicated the process enormously; and the equally discordant factthat no passenger--and especially not Georges Coutlass--desired orintended to pay one anna more than he could avoid by hook, crook, orargument, made the game amusing to the casual looker-on, but hastenednothing (except tempers). The temperature within the vestibule was112' by the official thermometer. 

"You pair of black murderers!" yelled Coutlass as we took our place inline. "You bloody robbers! You pickpockets! You train-thieves! Goout and dig your graves! I will make an end of you!"

"You should not use abusive language" the babu retorted mildly, stopping to speak, and then again to wipe his spectacles, and hisforehead, and his hands, and to glance at the clock, and to mutter whatmay or may not have been a prayer. 

Coutlass exploded. 

"Shouldn't, eh? Who the hell are you to tell me what I shouldn't do?Sell me a ticket, you black plunderer, d'you hear! Look! Listen!"

He snatched a piece of paper from the babu's hand and turned to facethe impatient crowd. 

"This hell-cat--" (the unhappy babu looked less like a hell-cat thanany vision of the animal I ever imagined) "wants to make out thatseventy-one times seven annas and three pice is forty-nine rupees, eleven annae! Oh, you charlatan! You mountebank! You black-bloodedrobber! You miscreant! Cut your throat, I order you!"

The babu expostulated, stammered, quailed. Coutlass drew in his breathfor the gods of Greece alone knew what heights of fury next. Butinterruption entered. 

"There, that's enough of you! Get to the back of the line!"

The man who had promised us berths came abruptly through the barrier, and unlike the babu did not appear afraid of any one. The Greek letout his gathered breath with a bark of fury, like a seal coming up tobreathe. Taking that for a symptom of opposition the newcomer, verycool in snow-white uniform and helmet, seized Coutlass by the neck andhustled him, arguing like a boiler under pressure, through the crowd. The Greek was three inches taller, and six or eight inches bigger roundthe chest, but too astonished to fight back, and perhaps, too, aware ofthe neighborhood of old da Gama's fort, where more than one Greek waspining for the grape and olive fields of Hellas. With a final shovethe railway official thrust him well out into the road. 

"If you miss the train, serve you right!" he said. "Babus are willingservants, to be treated gently!"

Then he saw us. 

"You're late! Where's your luggage? These your porters? Allright--put you on your honor. Go on through. Save time. Have yourstuff weighed, and settle the bill at Nairobi. All of it, mind! Babu, let these people through!"

Followed by Courtney, who seemed to have right of way wherever itsuited him to wander, we filed through the gate, crossed the blazinghot platform, and boarded a compartment labeled "Reserved. " Therailway man nodded and left us, to hurry and help sell tickets. 

It was an Indian type railway carriage be left us in, a contraption notill-suited to Africa--nor yet so comfortable as to diminish thesensation of travel toward new frontiers. 

Each car was divided into two compartments, entirely separate andentered from opposite ends; facing ours was the rear end of asecond-class car, into which we could look if the doors were open andwe lay feet-foremost on the berths. The berths were arrangedlengthwise, two each side, and one above the other. 

It was what they called a mixed train, mixed that is of freight andpassengers--third-class in front, second next, then first, and a dozenlittle iron freight cars of two kinds in front. In those days therewere neither tunnels nor bridges on that railway, and there was asingle seat on the roof at each end of first- and second-classcompartments reached by a ladder, for any passenger enamored of theview. Even the third-class compartments (and they were otherwise asdeliberately bare and comfortless as wood and iron could make them) hadlattice-work shades over the upper half of the windows. 

For the babu's encouragement, and to increase the panic of theticketless, the engineer was blowing the whistle at short intervals. Passengers, released in quicker order now that a white official waslending the two babus a hand, began coming through the barrier insudden spurts, baggage in either hand and followed hot-foot by nativeswith their heavier stuff. They took headers into the train, and theporters generally came back grinning. 

"I see through the whistling stunt, " Will announced. "My, but thatfellow on the engine has faith; or else the system's down real fine inthese parts! He won't be back for a week. Those woolly-headed portersare going to save up his commission and hand it to him when he bringsthe down-train in! The game's good: he whistles--passengerruns--can't make change--pays two, three, four, ten times what thejob's worth--and the porters divvy up with the engineer. But goodlord, the porters must be honest!"

Presently a pale white man in khaki with a red beard entered ourcompartment, and Courtney had to make room for him on the seat. Heapologized with less conviction of real regret than I ever remembernoticing, although the pouches under his eyes gave him a ratherworld-weary look. 

"Not another first-class berth on the train--every last one engaged. Might be worse. Might have had to ride with Indians. Curse of thiscountry, Indians are. I'd rid the land of 'em double-quick ifgovernment 'ud pay me a rupee a head--an' I'd provide cartridges! Butgovernment likes 'em! Ugh! Ever travel in one compartment with adozen of 'em? Sleep in a tent with a score of 'em? Share blanketswith a couple of 'em on a cold night? No? You be glad I'm not anIndian. One's enough!"

We made room for his belongings, and leaned from the window all on oneseat together. The time to start arrived and passed; hot passengerscontinued spurting for the train at intervals--all sorts ofpassengers--English, Mauritius--French, Arab, Goanese, German, Swahili, Indian, Biluchi, one Japanese, two Chinamen, half-breeds, quarter-breeds of all the hues from ivory to dull red, guinea-yellow, and bleached out black; but the second-class compartment facing ourdoor remained empty. There was a name on the card in the little metalreservation frame, and every passenger who could read English glancedat it, but nobody came to claim it even when the engine's extra shrillscreaming and at last the ringing of a bell warned Courtney that timewas really up, and he got out on the platform. 

"Good-by, " he said through the window. "I've done what I could to bringyou luck. Don't be tempted to engage the first servants who apply toyou at Nairobi. If you wait there a week I'll send my Kazimoto to you; he's a very good gun-bearer. He'll be out of a job when I'm gone. Ishall give him his fare to Nairobi. Engage him if you want adependable boy, but remember the rule about dogs: a good one has onemaster! I don't mean Kazimoto is a dog--far from it. I mean, treathim as reasonably as you would a dog, and he'll serve you well. He's afirst-class Nyamwezi, from German East. Oh, and one more scrap ofadvice--":

He came close to the window, but at that moment the engine gave a finalscream and really started. Passengers yelled farewells. The engine'sapoplectic coughs divided the din into spasms, and there came a greatbellowing from the ticket office. He could not speak softly and beheard at all. Louder he had to speak, and then louder, ending almostwith a shout. 

"The best way to Elgon is by way of Kisumu and Mumias, whatever anybodyelse may tell you. And if you find the stuff, or any of it, " (he wasrunning beside the train now)--"be in no hurry to advertise the fact!Go and make terms first with government--then--after you've madeterms--tell 'em you've found it! Find the stuff--make terms--thenproduce what you've found! Get my meaning? Good-by, all. Good luck!"

We left him behind then, wiping the sweat from his wrinkled, freckledforehead, gazing after us as if we had all been lifelong friends ofhis. He made no distinction between us and Fred, but was equallyanxious to serve us all. 

"If that man isn't white, who is?" demanded Will, and then there wasnew interest. 

We had left the ticket office far behind, but the train was movingslowly and there was still a good length of platform before our carwould be clear of the station altogether. We heard a roar like abull's from behind, and a dozen men--white, black and yellow--camecareering down the platform carrying guns, baggage, bedding, and allthe paraphernalia that travelers in Africa affect. 

First in the van was Georges Coutlass, showing a fine turn of speed buttripping on a bed-sheet at every other step, with his uncased rifle inone hand, his hat in the other, an empty bandolier over one shoulderand a bag slung by a strap swinging out behind him. He made a leap forthe second-class compartment in front of us, and landed on all fours onthe platform. We opened the door of our compartment to watch himbetter. 

Once on the platform he threw his rifle into the compartment and bracedhimself to catch the things his stampeding followers hurled afterhim--caught them deftly and tossed them in, yelling instructions inGreek, Kiswahili, Arabic, English, and two or three other languages. It may be that the engineer looked back and saw what was happening (orperhaps the guard signaled with the cord that passed through eyeholesthe whole length of the train) for though we did not slow down wegained no speed until all his belongings had been hurled, and caught, and flung inside. Then came his traveling companions--caught by onehand and dragged on their knees up the steps. They were heavy men, buthe snatched all three in like a boy pulling chestnuts from the fire. 

The first was a Greek--evil-looking, and without the spirit that in thecase of Coutlass made a stranger prone to over-lookshortcomings--dressed in khaki, with rifle and empty bandolier. Next, chin, elbow, hand and knee up the steps came a fat, tough-lookingGoanese, dressed anyhow at all in pink-colored dirty shirt, dark pants, and a helmet, also with rifle and empty bandolier. I judged he weighedabout two hundred and eighty pounds, but Coutlass yanked him in like afish coming overside. Last came a man who might be Arab, or part-Arab, part-Swahili, whom I did not recognize at first, fat, black, dressed inthe white cotton garments and red fez of the more or less well-to-donative, and voluble with rare profanity. 

"Johnson!" shouted Fred with almost the joy of greeting an oldacquaintance. 

It was Hassan, sure enough, short-winded and afraid, but more afraid ofbeing left behind than of the manhandling. Coutlass took hold of hisoutstretched arm, hoisted him, cracked his shins for him against thetop step, and hurled him rump-over-shoulders into the compartment, where the other Greek and the Goanese grabbed him by the arms and legsand hove him to an upper berth, on which he lay gasping like a fish outof water and moaning miserably. Their compartment was a mess ofluggage, blankets, odds-and-ends, and angry men. Coutlass found awhisky bottle out of the confusion, and swallowed the stuff neat whilethe other Greek and the Goanese waited their turn greedily. There wasnothing much in that compartment to make a man like Hassan feel at home. 

"Those Greeks, " said our red-bearded traveling companion as we shut thedoor again, "are only one degree better than Indians--a shade lessdepraved perhaps--a sight more dangerous. I sure do hate a Punjabi, but I don't love Greeks! The natives call 'em bwana masikini to theirfaces--that means Mister Mean White y'know. They're a lawless lot, theGreeks you'll run across in these parts. My advice is, shoot first!Walk behind 'em! If they ain't armed, hoof 'em till they cut an' run!Greeks are no good!"

We introduced ourselves. He told us his name was Brown. 

"There's three Browns in this country: Hell-fire Brown of Elementaita, Joseph Henry Brown of Gilgil, and Brown of Lumbwa. Brown of Lumbwa'sme. Don't believe a word either of the other two Browns tell you!Yes, we're all settlers. Country good to settle in? Depends what youcall good. If you like lots of room, an' hunting, natives to wait an'your own house on your own square mile--comfortable climate--noconventions--nor no ten commandments, why, it's pretty hard to beat. But if you want to wear a white shirt, and be moral, and get rich, it'srotten! You've a chance to make money if you're not over law-abiding, for there's elephants. But if you're moral, and obey the laws, youhaven't but one chance, an' she's a slim one. "

"Well, " said Fred, genially, "tell us about the only one. We're men towhom the ten commandments are--"

"You look it!" Brown interrupted. "Well, what's the odds? You'llnever find it, and anyhow, everybody knows it's Tippoo Tib's ivory. Imean to have a crack at spotting it myself, soon as I get my farmfenced an' one or two other matters attended to. Gov'ment offers tenper cent. To whoever leads 'em to it, but they can't believe any one'sas soft as that surely! They'll be lucky if they get ten per cent. Ofit themselves! Man alive, but they say there's a whale of a hoard ofit! Hundreds o' tons of ivory, all waiting to be found, and fossickedout, an' took! Say--if I was some o' those Greeks for instance, tellyou what I'd do: I'd off to Zanzibar, an' kidnap Tippoo Tib. The oldcard's still living. I'd apply a red-hot poker to his silver-side an'the under-parts o' his tripe-casings. He'd tell me where the stuff isquicker'n winking! Supposin' I was a Greek without morals or nocompunctions or nothin', that's what I'd do! I don't hold withallowin' any man to play dog in the manger with all that plunder!"

"Have you a notion where the stuff might be?" Fred wondered guilelessly. 

"Ah! That 'ud be tellin'!"

We had crossed the water that divides Mombasa from the mainland. Behind us lay the prettiest and safest harbor on all thatthousand-league-long coast; before us was the narrow territory thatstill paid revenue and owed nominal allegiance to the Sultan ofZanzibar, although really like the rest of those parts under Britishrule. We were bowling along beside plantations of cocoanut, peanut, plantain and pineapple, with here and there a thicket of strange treesto show what the aboriginal jungle had once looked like. When westopped at wayside stations the heat increased insufferably, until weentered the great red desert that divides the coast-land from thehills, and after that all seemed death and dust, and haziness, and hell. 

At first we passed occasional baobabs, with trunks fifteen or twentyfeet thick and offshoots covering a quarter of an acre. Then the treesthinned out to the sparse and shriveled all-but-dead things thatstruggle for existence on the border-lines between man's land anddesolation. At last we drew down the smoked panes over the window toescape the glare and sight of the depressing desolation. 

The sun beat down on the iron roof. The heat beat up from the tracks. Red dust polluted the drinking water in the little upright tank. Dustfilled eyes, nostrils, hair. Dust caked and grew stiff in the sweatthat streamed down us. Yet we stopped once at a station, and humanslived there and a man got off the train. A lone lean babu and hisleaner, more miserable native crew came out and eyed the train likevultures waiting for a beast to die. But we did not die, and the trainpassed on into illimitable dusty redness, leaving them to watch the hotrails ribbon out behind our grumbling caboose. 

There began to be carousing in the second-class compartment next aheadof us. Our own Brown of Lumbwa produced a stone crock of Irish whiskyfrom a basket, imbibed copiously, offered us in turn the glisteningneck, looked relieved at our refusal, and grew voluble. 

"Hear them Greeks an' that Goa. You'd think they were gentlemen o'breeding to hear 'em carryin' on! Truth is we've no government worth amoment's consid'ration, an' everybody knows it, Greeks included! Youmen lookin' for farms? Take your time! Once you get a farm, an' getyour house built, an' stock bought, an' stuff planted--once you've gotyour capital invested so to speak, they've got you! Till then you'refree! Till then they'll maybe treat you with consideration! Till thenyou leave the country when you like an' kiss yourselves good-by to theman' Africa. Till then they've got no hold! The courts can fine you, maybe, but can they make you pay? It's none so easy if you're halfawake! But take me: Suppose I break a reggylation. What happens?They know where to find me--how much I've got--where it is--an' if Idon't pay the fine, they come an' collar my cattle an' sticks! D'younotice any Greeks applyin' for farms? Not no crowds of 'em you don't!I don't know one single Greek who has a farm in all East Africa! AnyGoas? Not a bit of it! Any Indians? Not one! So when a few extryelephants get shot, I get the blame--down at Lumbwa, where there ain'tno elephants; an' the Greeks, Goas, Arabs an' Indians get fat on theswag! It's easy to keep track of a white man; the natives all knowhim, an' his name, an' where he lives, an' report everything he does tothe nearest gov'ment officer. But Greeks an' Goas an' Indians an'Arabs ain't white, so the natives make no mention of 'em. They do thelootin'; we settlers get the blame; an' the whole perishing country'sgoing to blazes as fast as a lump of ice melting in hell--but not sofast as I'd like to see it go. Have some o' this whisky, won't you?"

I was scarcely listening to him, but he seemed to get drunk just "sofar and no further, " and Fred found him worth attention. It happenedthat Fred, Will and I were all thinking of the same thing. Will put ahand to his neck and stroked the little scar the Arab knife had made inZanzibar. 

"What sort of a country's this for women?" Fred demanded. 

"Which women?" Brown asked in sort of mild amazement. 

"White women?"

"Rotten! Leastwise, there aren't any. Yes, there's three. Twoofficials' wives, an' Pioneer Jane French. Heard o' her? Walked fromSouth Africa, Jane did--hoofed it along o' French, bossed his boys, drove the cattle, shot the meat, ran the whole shootin' match, an' runshim, too, when he's sober an' she's drunk. When they're both drunkeverybody ducks. She's scarcely a woman, she's sort ofthree-men-rolled-into-one. Give her a horsewhip ae she'll manage theunruliest crowd o' savages ever you or she set eyes on! Countin' heras one, an' the two officials wives, an' her on this train, there'sfour!"

Our eyes met. I awoke to sudden interest that startled our informantand made him curious in turn. 

"On this train?"

"On this train. Didn't you see her? She was watching you chaps throughthe window slits like the Queen o' Sheba keepin' tabs on Solomon. Say, what's she doing in this country anyhow? I made a try to get a seat inher carriage, but she ordered me out like Aunt Jemima puttin' out thecat the last thing. She's got a maid in with her, but the maid ain'twhite--Jew--Syrian--Levantine--Dago--some such breed. She's in thiscompartment next behind. "

Our eyes met again. Fred laughed, and Will leaned forward to whisperto me: "She heard what Courtney said to us about the way to MountElgon!"

"D'you know her name?" asked Brown. 

"No!" we all three lied together with one voice. 

"I do! I seen it on the reservation card. Lady Isobel Saffren Waldon! Pretty high-soundin' patronymic, what? Lady Isobel Saffren Waldon!"He repeated the name over and over, crescendo, with growing fervor. "What's a woman with a title doin' d'you suppose? The title's no fake. She's got the blood all right, all right! You ought to ha' heard hershoo me out! Lummy! A nestin' hen giving the office to a snakeweren't in it to her an' me! Good looker, too! What's she doin' inEast Africa?"

We made no shift to answer. 

"The officials' wives, " he went on, "are keen after Tippoo's ivory, but, bein' obliged to stay in the station except when their husbands goon safari, an' then only go where their husbands go, they've no show tospeak of. Pioneer Jane's nuts on it, an' she's dangerous. Jane's aslikely to find the stuff as any one. She's independent--go where sheblooming well pleases--game as a lioness--looks like one, too, only alioness is kind o' softer an' not so quick in the uptake. My money'son Jane for a place. But d'you suppose this Lady SaffrenWhatshername's another one? Them Greeks ahead of us I'm sure of; allthe Greeks in Africa are huntin' for nothin' else. But what about thedame?"

"Going to join her husband, perhaps, " suggested Fred to put him off. 

"There's no man o' that name in British East or Uganda. I know 'emall--every one. "

"Father--brother--uncle--nephew--oh, perhaps she's just traveling, "said Fred. 

"Just traveling my eye! Titled ladies don't come 'just traveling' inthese parts--not by a sight, they don't--not alone!"

He helped himself to more whisky, but had reached the stage where ithad no further visible effect on him. 

"Anyhow, " he said, wiping the neck of the jar with his hand, "if shekids herself she'll be let go where she pleases--why, she kids herself! It takes Pioneer Jane to trespass where writs don't run! Jane goeswhere her husband don't dare follow. The officials don't say a word. Y'see there's no jail where they could stow a white woman and observethe decencies. So she goes over the borderline whenever she sees fit. The king's writ runs maybe for thirty miles north o' this railway. Once over that they can't catch you. But unless you're a black man, orPioneer Jane, the natives tip the gov'ment off an' gov'ment rounds youup afore you get two-thirds the way. They'll take less than half achance with her ladyship or I'm a Dutchman. Why! How would it look tohave to bring her back between two native policemen? She'll not beallowed five miles outside Nairobi township!"

He up-ended his whisky again, consumed about a pint of it, and settleddown to sleep. We took him by the legs and arms and threw him on theupper berth to stew in the cabined heat under the roof. 

"It's good Monty's not with us, " said Fred. He sat down and laughed atour surprise that he should state such heresy. "Monty mustn't breaklaws, but who cares if we do?"

"Laws?" said Will disgustedly. "I don't care who makes, or breaks thelaws of this land! Let's beat it! Let's join Monty in London and makeplans for some other trip. Everybody's after this ivory. We haven't alook-in. Even if we knew where to look for it we'd be followed. Let'stake the next train back from Nairobi, and the next boat for Europe!"

Fred rubbed his hands delightedly, and stroked his beard into the neatpoint it refuses to keep for long at a time in very hot weather. 

"Let's stay in Nairobi" he said, "at least until Courtney sends thatboy he promised us. We can put in the time asking questions, andthen--"

"What then?" grumbled Will. 

"There may be truth in what Brown of Lumbwa says about a dead-line. "

"Dead-line?"

"Beyond which the king's writ doesn't run. "

"Betcherlife there's truth in it!" Brown mumbled from the upper berth. 

Will exploded silently, going through the motions of reeling off allthe bad language he knew--not an insignificant performance. 

"He's really asleep now, " I said, standing on the lower berth andlifting the man's eyelid to make sure. 

"Who cares?" said Will. "He's heard. We've given the game away. Thewoman heard Courtney shout about how to reach Mount Elgon. So did thissharp. Now he hears Fred talk about dead-lines and the king's writ andbreaking laws! The game's up! Me for the down-train and a steamer!"

We smoked in silence, rendered more depressing by the deepening gloomoutside. With the evening it grew no cooler. What little wind therewas followed the train, so that we traveled in stagnation. Utterdarkness brought no respite, but the fascination of flitting shadowsand the ever-new mystery of African night. The train drew up at lastin a station in the shadow of great overleaning mountains, and the heatshut down on us like hairy coverings. We seemed to breathe throughthicknesses of cloth, and the very trees that cast black shadow on theplatform ends were stifling for lack of air. 

"One hour for diner!" called the guard, walking limply along the train. "Just an hour for dinner! Dinner waiting!"

He was not at all a usual-looking guard. He was dressed in ridingbreeches and puttee leggings, and wore a worn-out horsey air as if inprotest against the obligation to work in a black man's land. Incountries where the half-breed and the black man live for and almostmonopolize government employment few white men take kindly to braid andbrass buttons. That fellow's contempt for his job was equaled only bythe babu station master's scorn of him and his own for the stationmaster. Yet both men did their jobs efficiently. 

"Only an hour for dinner, gents--train starts on time!"

"Guard!" called a female voice we all three recognized--"Guard! Comehere at once, I want you!"

We left Brown of Lumbwa snoring a good imitation of the Battle ofWaterloo on the upper berth, and filed out to the dimly-lightedplatform. A space in the center was roofed with corrugated iron andunder that the yellow lamplight cast a maze of moving shadows as thepassengers swarmed toward the dining-room. The smell of greasy cookingblended with the reek of axle and lamp oil. At the platform's forwardend shadowy figures were throwing cord-wood into the tender, and thethump-thump-thump of that sounded like impatience; everything elsesuggested lethargy. 

"Guard!" called the voice again. "Come here, guard!"

He stopped in passing to close our windows and lock our compartmentdoor against railway thieves. 

"There's a man asleep in there, " I said. 

"The 'eat 'll sober 'im!" he grinned, slamming the last window down. "What'll you bet 'er 'ighness don't want me to fetch dinner to 'er?She was in the train in Mombasa two hours afore startin' time, an' thethings she ordered me to do 'ud have made a 'alf-breed think 'e wasdemeaning of 'imself! I 'aven't seen the color of 'er money yet. Ifshe wants dinner she gets out and walks or 'er maid fetches it--youwatch!"

Coutlass, the other Greek and the Goanese staggered out beside us on tothe platform, drunk enough not to know whether Hassan was with them ornot. He came out and stood beside them in a sort of alert defensiveattitude. 

"Guard!" called the voice again. "Where is the man?"

We followed the last of the crowd through the screened doors, and tookseats at a table marked "First Class Only!" There were four men thereahead of us, two government officials disinclined to talk; amissionary in a gray flannel shirt, suffering from fever and toosuspicious to say good evening; and a man in charge of that section ofthe line, who checked the station master's accounts and counted moneyin a tray between mouthfuls. Between us and the second-class tableswas a wooden screen on short legs, and beyond that arose babel. Second-class is democratic always, and talks with its mouth full. Inaddition to our privilege of paying more for exactly the same food, weenjoyed exclusiveness, a dirty table-cloth, and the extra smell fromthe kitchen door. (The table-cloth was dirty because the barefootGoanese waiters invariably stubbed their feet against a break in thefloor and spilt soup exactly in the same place. )

We had scarcely taken our seats when Coutlass swaggered in, closelyfollowed by his gang. Inside the door he turned on Hassan. 

"Black men eat outside!" he snarled, and shoved him out again backward. Then he came over to us and stood leering at the framed sign, "FirstClass Only, " avoiding our eyes, but plainly at war with us. 

"Gassharamminy!" he growled. "You think you're popes or something!You three would want a special private piece of earth to spit on!" Heraised his voice to a sort of scream. "I proclaim one class only!"

At that he lifted his foot about level with his chest and kicked thescreen over. The crash brought everybody to his feet except the twoofficials and the railway man. They continued eating, and the railwayman continued counting copper coins as if life depended on that alone. 

"Sit down all!" yelled Coutlass. "You will eat with better appetitenow that you can behold the blushes of these virgins!" Then heswaggered over to the long table, thrust the other Greek and theGoanese into chairs on either side of him, and yelled for food. It wasthe first time we had been referred to publicly as virgins, and I thinkwe all three felt the strain. 

The Goanese manager--a wizened old black man with perfectly whitehair--came running from the kitchen in a state of near-collapse, thesweat streaming off him and his hands trembling. 

"What shall I do?" he asked, almost upsetting the railway man's tray ofmoney. "That man is crazy! He came in once before and broke thedishes! Twice he has come in here and eaten and refused to pay! Whatshall I do?"

"Nothing, " said the railway man. "Go on serving dinner. Serve himtoo. "

The manager hurried out again and the running to and fro resumed. Thenin came the guard. 

"First-class for two on trays!" he shouted. 

The railway man beckoned to him and he winked as he passed by us. 

"When you've seen to that, and had your own meal, I want you, " said therailway man. 

"Thought you said the lady's maid would have to come and fetch thefood?" I said maliciously as the guard passed my chair a second time. 

"So I did. But if you know how to refuse her, just teach me! I toldher flat to have the maid fetch it. She let on they're both toofrightened to cross the platform in the dark! Never saw anything like'em! Tears! An' dignified! When I climbed down they was too afraidnext to be left alone. Swore train-thieves 'ud murder 'em! I had toleave 'em my key to lock 'emselves in with until I come back with thegrub! What d'you think of that?"

But our soup came, and one could not think and eat that stuffsimultaneously. The railway man looked up for a moment, saw my face, and explained in a moment of expansiveness that meat would not keep inthat climate but was "perfectly good" when cooked. 

"Besides, " he added, "you'll get nothing more until you reach Nairobitomorrow noon!"

That turned out to be not quite true, but as an argument it worked. Weswallowed, like the lined-up merchant seamen taking lime-juice underthe skipper's eye. 

The guard grew impatient and went into the kitchen, but had scarcelygot through the door when a scream came from the direction of the trainthat brought him back on the run. No black woman ever screams in justthat way, and in a land of black and worse-than-black men imaginationleaps at a white woman's call for help. 

There was a stampede for the door by every one except the Greeks andGoanese and the railway man. (He had to guard the money. ) We pouredthrough the screen doors, the guard fighting to burst between us, and, because with a self-preserving instinct that I have never thought quitecreditable to the human race, everybody ran toward his own compartment, it happened that we three and the two officials and the guard camefirst on the scene of trouble. 

Brown of Lumbwa was still drunk-affectionate, it seemed, by that time. 

"You've no call to be 'fraid of me, li'l sweetheart!" The door wasopen. Within the compartment all was dark, but every sound emerged. There came a stifled scream. 

"Li'l stoopid! What d'you come in for, if you're 'fraid o' poor oleBrown? I won't hurt you. "

The guard passed between us and went up the step. He listened, looked, disappeared through the open door, and there came a sound of struggling. 

"Whassis?" shouted Brown. "An interloper? No you don't! This is myli'l sweetheart! She came in to see me--didn't you, Matilda Ann?"

The woman apparently broke free. The guard yelled for help. Fred andone of the government officials were nearest and as they entered theypassed the woman coming out. I recognized Lady Saffren Waldon's Syrianmaid, with the big railway key in her fist that the guard had left withher. By that time there was a considerable crowd about our car, unableto see much because it stood in the way of the station lamp-light. Sheslipped through--to the right--not toward Lady Isobel's compartment, and I lost sight of her behind some men. I ran after her, but she wasgone among the shadows, and although I hunted up and down and in andout I could find her nowhere. 

When I returned to our car Brown of Lumbwa was out on the platform withhis hair all tousled and a wild eye. The guard was wiping a bloodynose and everybody was inventing an account of what nobody had seen. 

"Scrag him!" advised some expert on etiquette. 

"What the hell right has anybody got, " demanded Brown with querulousferocity, "to interfere between me and a lady? Eh? Whose compartmentwas she in? Me in hers or her in mine? Eh? Me. I'm sleeping. Hasn't a gent a right to sleep? Next thing I know she's fingerin' mywhiskers. How should I know she's not balmy on red beards an' makin'love to me? What right's she got in my compartment anyhow? Who lether in? Who asked her? What if I did frighten her? What then?"

"Who was she?" demanded the official. "Had anybody seen her before?"

"The maid attending the lady in the next compartment, " said I. 

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. "

"Very well. Guard! See who is in there!"

The guard wiped blood from his nose and obeyed orders. We clusteredround the steps to hear. 

"'Ow many's in here?" he demanded. 

There was no answer. He tried the door and it opened 'readily. 

"'Scuse me, but is there two of you? I can't see in the dark. "

"Oh, is that our dinner?" said Lady Saffren Waldon's Voice. 

"No ma'am, not the dinner yet. "

"Why not, pray?"

"There's folks accusin' your maid o' enterin' the next compartmentan'--an'--"

"Nonsense! My maid is here! You kept us so long waiting for dinner wewere both asleep! Ah! There's light at last, thank heaven!"

Two native porters running along the roofs were dropping lamps into theholes appointed for them, and the train that had been a block ofdarkness hewn out of the night was now a monster, many-eyed. 

"They're both in there, so 'elp me!" the guard reported, retreatingbackward through the door and leering at us. 

There remained nobody, except the still indignant Brown of Lumbwa tolevy charges, and the crowd remembered its dinner (not that anythingcould be expected to grow cold in that temperature). 

"The train will start on time!" announced the babu station master, andeverybody hurried to the dining-room. Brown came with us, bewildered. 

"How did it happen?" he demanded. "When did we get here? Why wasn't Icalled for dinner? How did she get in? Where did she go to?"

"Oh, come and eat curried cow, it's lovely!" answered Will. 

Fred overtook us at the door, and whispered:

"Our things have been gone through, but I can't find that anything'smissing. "

Within the dining-room was new ground for discontent. The British raceand its offshoots wash, but disbelieve with almost unanimity in wateras a drink. Every guest at either table had left at his place a partlyemptied glass of beer, or brandy and soda, or whisky. Each looked forthe glass on his return, and found it empty. 

"Those Greeks!" exclaimed the Goanese manager, with a fearful air, andshoulders shrugged to disclaim his own responsibility. 

Coutlass and the other Greek were sitting at a table with a gorgedlook, glancing neither to the right nor left, yet not eating. I lookedat the railway official, who had not left his seat. It struck me hewas laughing silently, but he did not look up. The crowd, after themanner of all crowds, stormed at the Goanese manager. 

"What can I do? What shall I do?" wailed the unhappy little man. "They are bigger than I! They were greedy! They took!"

All those charges were evidently true, and stated mildly. Coutlassrose to his feet. 

"Gassharamminy!" he thundered, and his stomach stuck out over the tableit was so full of various drinks. "Why should we not take? Who isn'tthirsty in this hell of a place? Who leaves good drink deserves tolose it!"

"What shall I do?" wailed the Goanese manager. 

"Take the orders for drinks again, " said the railway man, glancing upfrom his figures. "Bring the account to me. "

The waiters ran to fill orders, and a babel of abuse at the secondtable was hurled at Coutlass and his friends; but they lid not leavethe table because there was another course to come, and, as the managerhad said, they were greedy. Then in came the guard, his face ablood-and-smudgy picture of discontent. 

"Say!" he yelled. "Ain't I goin' to get those two first-classes ontrays?" He came and stood by us. "Did you ever 'ear the likes of it?They swear neither of 'em was out of the compartment. They call me aliar for askin' for my key back! They swear I never gave it to 'em, 'an they never asked for it, an' their door was never locked, nornothin'!"

He passed on to the railway man. 

"I'll have to borry your key, sir. Mine's lost. Can't open doorsuntil I get one from somewhere. "

The railway man passed him his key with a bored expression and noremark. 

"Don't forget that I want you presently, " be ordered. "Be quick andget your own dinner. "

"I'm in love with this ivory hunt!" Fred whispered to us across thetable. "If she's sure our pockets are worth going through, I'm surethere's something to look for!"

"Are you sure the maid went through our things?" asked Will. 

"Quite. I left my shooting jacket hanging on a hook. Everything wasemptied out of the pockets on to the berth. "

"I think I'll make you a confession presently, " said I, with a look atWill that just then he did not understand. 

"Never confess before dessert and coffee!" advised Fred. "It spoilsthe appetite. "

CHAPTER FIVE

THE SLAVE GANGS

Our fathers praised the old accustomed things, The privilege of chiefs, the village wallWithin whose circling dark Monumme* sings O' nights of belly-full and ease and allThey taught us we should prize and praise (Only of dearth and pestilence should be our fears;)And now behind us are the green, regretted days. The water in the desert is our tears. Then ye, who at the waters drink Of Freedom, oh with Pity think On us, who face the desert brink Your fathers entered willingly. 

Our fathers mocked the might of the Unseen, Teaching that only what we saw and feltWas good to fight about--what aye had been, Old-fashioned foods that their forefathers smelt, Old stars each night illuming the old sky, The warm rain softening ere women till the ground, The soft winds singing, only ask not why! And now our weeping is the desert sound. Oh ye, who gorge the daily good, Unquestioned heirs of all ye would, Spare not too timidly the blood Your fathers shed so willingly. 

Our fathers taught us that the village good was best. Later we learned the red, new tribal creedThat our place was the sun--night owned the rest Unless their treasure profited our greed!But now we gather nothing where our fathers sowed, For harvest grim the vultures wait in rowsAs, urged by greedier than us with gun and goad, Yoked two by two the slave safari goes. Oh ye, who from true judgment shrink, Nor gentleness with courage link, Be thoughtful when the cup ye drink Your fathers spilled so willingly. 

----------* Monumme (Kiswahili)--Lit. Male-man in his prime. ----------

The guard procured his trays at last, delivered them at a run, returnedin a hurry and swallowed his own meal at a side-table. Then, with hismouth full, he reported for orders to the railway official, who wasstill checking figures. The room was beginning to grow empty. Coutlass and his Greek friend and the Goanese sat almost alone at thefar end of the other table, finishing their pudding. I had not noticeduntil then that the guard was a singularly little man. He stood veryfew inches taller than the seated official. I suppose that hitherto insome way his energy had seemed to increase his inches. 

"Are there handcuffs in the caboose?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Fetch them. "

In spite of Brown of Lumbwa's protests, who wept at the notion ofhaving to eat alone, we were in the act of settling our bills andgoing. But mention of handcuffs suggesting entertainment, we litcigars and, imagining we stayed for love of him, Brown cooed at us. 

"I've the darbies in my pocket, sir!"

I thought the guard looked more undersized than ever. He would havemade a fair-sized middle-weight jockey. 

"Tell that Greek--Coutlass his name is--to come here. "

With his tongue stuck into his cheek and a wink at us the guard obeyed. 

"He says for you to go to 'ell, sir!" he reported after a moment'sinterview. 

"Very well. Arrest him!"

"He'll need help, " I interrupted. "My two friends and I--"

"Oh, dear no, " said the official. "He is fully up to his work. "

So we moved our chairs into position for a better view. 

The guard advanced fox-terrierwise to within about six paces ofCoutlass. 

"Up with both your 'ands, Thermopylea!" he snapped. "Your bloomin'reckonin's come!"

Coutlass showed tobacco-stained teeth for answer, and his friendsrutched their chairs clear of the table, ready for action. Yet theywere taken unawares. With a terrier's speed the guard pounced onCoutlass, seized him by the hair and collar, hurled him, chair and all, under a side-table, and was on the far side of the table kicking hisprostrate victim in the ribs before either Greek or Goanese--likewiseupset in the sudden onslaught--could gather themselves and interfere. 

The Goanese was first on his feet. He hurled a soda-water bottle. Theguard ducked and the bottle smashed into splinters on the wall. Beforethe sound of smashing glass had died the Goanese was down again, laidout by blows on the nose and jugular. Then again the guard kickedCoutlass, driving him back under the table from which he was trying toemerge on all fours. 

The second Greek looked more dangerous. His face grew dark with rageas the lips receded from his yellow teeth. He reached toward his boot, but judged there were too many witnesses for knife work and rushed insuddenly, yelling something in Greek to Coutlass as he picked up achair to brain the guard with. He swung the chair, but the guard metit with another one, dodged him, and tripped him as he passed. Inanother second it was his turn to be kicked in the ribs until he yelledfor mercy. (An extra large dinner and all those assorted drinks inaddition to what they had had in the train made neither man's windgood. )

No mercy was forthcoming. He was kicked, more and more violently, until the need of crawling through the door to safety dawned on hismuddled wits and he made his exit from the room snake fashion. By thattime Coutlass was on his feet, and he too elected to force the issuewith a chair. The guard sprang at the chair as Coutlass raised it, bore it down, and drove his fist hard home into the Greek's right eyethree times running. 

"'Ave you 'ad enough?" he demanded, making ready for another assault. The Goanese had recovered and staggered to his feet to interfere, butCoutlass yielded. 

"All right, " he said, "why should I fight a little man? I surrender tosave bloodshed!"

"Put your 'ands out, then!"

Coutlass obeyed, and was handcuffed ignominiously. 

"Outside, you!"

A savage kick landed in exactly the place where the Goanese leastexpected and most resented it. He flew through the door as if thetrain had started, and then another kick jolted Coutlass. 

"Forward, march! Left-right-left-right!"

With hands manacled in front and the inexorable bantam guard behind, Coutlass came and stood before the railway official, who at lastcondescended not to seem engrossed in his accounts. 

"'Ere he is, sir!"

"I suppose you know, my man, that I have magisterial powers on thisrailway?" said the official. 

Coutlass glowered but said nothing. 

"This is not the first time you have made yourself a nuisance. Youbroke dishes the last time you were here. "

"That is long ago, " Coutlass objected. "That was on the day the placewas first opened to the public. There was a celebration. Every onewas drunk. "

"You broke plates and refused to pay the damage!'

"Officials were drunk. I saw them!"

"The damage amounted to seventeen rupees, eight annas. "

"Gassharamminy! All the crockery from Mombasa to Nairobi isn't worththat amount! I shall not pay!"

"Now there's another bill for those drinks you and your friends stolewhen passengers' backs were turned. I saw you do it!"

"Why didn't you object at the time?" sneered Coutlass. 

"Here is the bill: twenty-seven rupees, twelve annas. Total, forty-five rupees, four annas. You may make the manager a present ofthe odd sum for his injured feelings, and call it an even fifty. Settle now, or wait here for the down-train and go to jail in Mombasa!"

"Wait in this place?" asked Coutlass, aghast. 

"Where else? There'll be a down passenger train in a week. "

"I pay!" said the Greek, with a hideous grimace. 

"Take the irons off him, then. "

The guard unlocked the handcuffs and Coutlass began to fumble for amoney-bag. 

"Give me a receipt!" he demanded, thumbing out the money. 

"You are the receipt!" said the official. "An Englishman would havebeen sent to jail with a fine, and have paid the bill into the bargain. You're treated leniently because you can't be expected to understanddecent behavior. You're expected to learn, however. Next time youwill catch it hot!"

"All aboard!" called the guard cheerfully. "All aboard!"

"Tears, idle tears!" said Brown of Lumbwa, taking my arm and Fred's. 

"Thass too true--too true! They'd have jailed an Englishman--me, f'rinstance. One little spree, an' they'd put me in the Fort! Oneli'l indishcresshion an' they'd jug me for shix months! Him they letgo wi' a admonisshion! It's 'nother case o' Barabbas, an' a greatshame, but you can't change the English. They're ingcorridgible!Brown o' Lumbwa's my name, " he added by way of afterthought. 

"Take advice and get under blankets afore you go to sleep, gents!"warned the guard. All windows were once more opened wide, and everyone was panting. 

"A job on this 'ere line's a circus!" he grinned. "I'm lucky ifthere's only one fight before Nairobi! 'Ave your blankets ready, gents! Cover yourselves afore you sleep!"

That sounded like a joke. The sweat poured from every one in streams. The hot hair cushions were intolerable. The dust gathered from thedesert stirred and hung, and there was neither air to breathe norcoolness under all those overhanging mountains. 

"Get under your blankets, gents!" advised the guard, passing down thetrain; and then the train started. 

I had the upper berth opposite Brown's, where it was hottest of allbecause of the iron roof. Drunk though he was, I noticed that thefirst thing Brown did after we had hoisted him aloft was to dig amongthe blankets like a dog and make the best shift he could of crawlingunder them. With one blanket twisted about his neck and shoulders andthe other tangled about his knees he remarked to the roof that his namewas Brown of Lumbwa, and proceeded to sob himself to sleep. He hadmade the journey a dozen times, so knew what he was doing. I drew onmy own blankets, and stifling, blowing out red dust, remembered apromise. 

"Will!" I said. "Tell Fred what happened to us in Zanzibar while heand Monty viewed the moon!"

"We agreed not to, " he answered, but it seemed to me he might arousehis own enthusiasm if he did tell. 

"Who's afraid of Fred?" said I. 

That settled it. 

"One of you shall tell before you sleep!" Fred announced, sitting up. "Who feareth not God nor regardeth me will blench before the prospectof a sleepless night! Speak, America!"

He took out a cleaning rod from his gun-case, and proceeded to stirWill's ribs and whack his feet. In a minute there was arough-house--panting, and bursts of laughter--cracks of the cleaningrod on Will's bare legs--the sound of hands slipping on sweaty arms--and

"Murder!" yelled Brown of Lumbwa, waking up. "Murder! Oh, mur-durrr!"

"Shut up, you fool!" I shouted at him. But he only yelled the louder. 

"I knew these tears were not for nothing!" he wailed. "It waspremonition! Pass me the whisky! Pass it up here! Oh, look! They'reat each other's throats! Murder! Oh, mur-durrr! Pass the whisky orI'll come down and kill everybody in self-defense! Murrrrr-durrr!"

They stopped fooling because his idiotic screams could be heard alldown the train. 

"There, " said Brown, "you see, I've saved two worthless lives! Veryfoolish of me! Pass the whisky! See that I save a little for themorning!"

At that he fell asleep again; and because Fred threatened to start newcommotion and wake him unless Will or I confessed at once, Will took upthe tale, I leaning over the edge of my berth to prompt him. Fredlaughed all through the story, and finally crawled under his blanketagain to lie chuckling at the underside of Brown of Lumbwa's berth. 

"I don't see what we've scored by telling him, " said Will to me. "We've merely given him a peg to hang jokes on!"

But I knew that now Will had told the story he would not, for veryshame, withdraw from the venture until we should have demonstrated thatno Lady Saffren Waldon, nor Sultan of Zanzibar, nor Germans, nor Arabscould make us afraid. And it seemed to me that was sufficientaccomplishment for one night. 

The train's progress slowed and grew slower. The panting of the enginecame back to us in savage blasts. We were climbing by curves andzigzags up the grim dark wall of mountains. And as we mounted inch byinch, foot by foot, the air freshened and grew cooler--not really coolyet by a very Jacob's ladder of degrees, but delectable by comparison. 

There was something peacefully exhilarating in the thought of risingfrom the red dead level of that awful plain, littered with the bones ofcamels and the slaves whom men pinned into the yokes to perish orsurvive in twos. * As we mounted foot by foot we fell asleep. Later, as we mounted higher, we shivered under blankets. There is a spiritand a spell of Africa that grip men even in sleep. The curt engineblasts became in my dreams the panting of enormous beasts that fought. A dream-continent waged war on itself, and bled. I saw the caravansgo, thousands long, the horsed and white-robed Arab in the lead--thepaid, fat, insolent askaris, flattering and flogging--slaves burdenedwith ivory and other, naked, new ones, two in a yoke, shivering underthe askari's lash, the very last dogged by vultures and hyenas, lean asthey, ill-nourished on such poor picking. 

-----------* It was the cheerful Arab rule never to release one slave from theyoke if the other failed on the journey, on the principle that then thestronger would be more likely to care for, encourage, and drive theweaker. -----------

Then I saw elephants in herds five thousand strong that screamed andstormed and crashed, flattening out villages in rage that man shouldinterfere with them--in fear of the ruthless few armed men with riflesin their rear. Whole herds crashed pell-mell through artfully stagedundergrowth into thirty-foot-deep pits, where they lingered and died ofthirst, that Arabs (who sat smoking within hail until they died) mighthave the ivory. 

And all I saw in my dream was nothing to the things I really was tosee. None of the cruelty of man, none of the rage and fear of animalhave vanished yet from Africa. Some of the cruelty is more refined;some of the herds are smaller; some good is making headway but Africais unchanged on the whole. It is a land of nightmares, with lovelyoases and rare knights errant; a land whose past is gloom, whosepresent is twilight and uncertainty, but whose future under the rule ofhumane men is immeasurable, unimaginable. 

In my dream din followed crash and confusion until the engine'sscreaming at last awoke me. My blanket had fallen to the floor and Iwas shivering from cold. I jumped down to recover it and realized itwas dawn already. We were bowling along at a fine pace past greentrees and undulating veld, and I wondered why the engine should keep onscreaming like a thing demented. I knelt on Fred's berth to lean fromthe window and look ahead. We were going round a slight curve and Icould see the track ahead for miles. 

Three hundred yards away a full-grown rhinoceros stood planted on thetrack, his flank toward us and his interest fixed on anything buttrains. He was sniffing the cool morning, looking the other way. 

"Wake up, you fellows!" I yelled, and Fred and Will put their headsthrough the window beside me just in time to see the rhino take noticeof the train at last. When the engine was fifty yards from him hewheeled, took a short-sighted squint at it, snifted, decided on war, and charged. The engineer crowded on steam. 

"He's a game enough sport!" chuckled Fred. 

"He's a fool!" grinned Will. 

He was both, but he never flinched. He struck the cow-catcher head-onand tried to lift it sky-high. The speed and weight of the engine senthim rolling over and over off the track, and the shock of the blow camebackward along the train in thunderclaps as each car felt the check. The engineer whistled him a requiem and a cheer went up from fiftyheads thrust out of windows. But he was not nearly done for. 

He got up, spun around like a polo pony to face the train, deliberatelypicked out level going, and charged again. This time he hit the car wewere in, and screams from the compartment behind us gave notice thatLady Saffren Waldon's maid was awake and looking through a window too. He hit the running-board beside the car, crumpled it to matchwood, lifted the car an inch off the track, but failed to disrail us. Thecar fell back on the metal with a clang, and the rhino recoiledsidewise, to roll over and over again. This time the impetus sent himover the edge of a gully and we did not doubt he was dead at the bottomof it. 

The guard stopped the train and came running to see what the damageamounted to. 

"Any gent got his rifle handy?" he shouted. "The train's ahead o'time. There's twenty minutes for sport!"

We dived for our rifles, but Coutlass had his and was on the trackahead of us, his eye a ghastly sight from the guard's overnightattentions, his face the gruesome color of the man who has eaten anddrunk too much, but his undamaged eye ablaze, and nothing whatever thematter with his enthusiasm. 

"Give me a cartridge--a cartridge, somebody!" he yelled. Gassharamminy!He's not dead! I saw him kick as he went over the edge legs upwards!Give me one cartridge and I'll finish him!"

By that time every male passenger was out on the track, some innight-shirts, some in shirts and pants, some with next-to-nothing atall on, but nearly all with guns. Somebody gave Coutlass a handful ofcartridges that fitted his Mauser rifle and he was off in the lead likea hero leading a forlorn hope, we after him. We searched high and lowbut lost all trace of the rhino, and at the end of half an hour theengine's whistle called us back. There were blood and hair all overthe engine--blood and hair on our car, but the rhino had been asdetermined in defeat as in attack, and if he died of his wounds hecontrived to do it alone and in dignity. 

"That leaves Coutlass with six cartridges, " said I, overtaking Fred. "Let's hope their owner asks for them back. "

The owner did ask for them. He stood with his hand out by the door ofthe Greek's compartment. 

"You didn't use those cartridges, " he said. 

"But I will!" sneered Coutlass. "Out of my way!"

He sprang for his door and slammed it in the man's face, and the otherGreek and the Goanese jeered through the window. I caught sight ofHassan beside them looking gray, as unhappy black men usually do. Willsaw him too. 

"The cannibal's ours, " he said, "supposing we want him and play ourcards kind o' careful. "

The next thing to delay the train was an elephant, who walked the trackahead of us and when the engine whistled only put on speed. Hypnotizedby the tracks that reached in parallel lines to the horizon, with trunkoutstretched, ears up, and silly tail held horizontally he set himselfthe impossible task of leaving us behind. The more we cheered, themore the engine screamed, the fiercer and less dignified became hisefforts; he reached a speed at times of fourteen or fifteen miles anhour, and it was not until, after many miles, he reached a culvert hedared not cross that he switched off at right angles. Realizing thenat last that the train could not follow him to one side he stood andwatched us pass, red-eyed, blown and angry. He had only one tusk, butthat a big one, and the weight of it caused him to hold his head at adrunken-looking angle. 

"Stop the train!" yelled Coutlass, brandishing his rifle as he climbedto the seat on the roof. But the guard, likewise on the roof at his endof the train, gave no signal and we speeded on. We were already in theworld's greatest game reserve, where no man might shoot elephant or anyother living thing. 

We began to pass herds of zebra, gnu, and lesser antelope--more than athousand zebra in one herd--ostriches in ones and twos--giraffes inscared half-dozens--rhinoceros--and here and there lone lions. Scarcely an animal troubled to look up at us, and only the giraffes ran. 

Watching them, counting them, distinguishing the various breeds wethree grew enormously contented, even Will Yerkes banishing depression. Obviously we were in a land of good hunting, for the strictly policedreserve had its limits beyond which undoubtedly the game would roam. The climate seemed perfect. There was a steady wind, not too cold orhot, and the rains were recent enough to make all the world look greenand bounteous. 

To right and left of us--to north and south that is--was wild mountaincountry, lonely and savage enough to arouse that unaccountable desireto go and see that lurks in the breast of younger sons and alltrue-blue adventurers. We got out a map and were presently tracing onit with fingers that trembled from excitement routes marked with tinyvague dots leading toward lands marked "unexplored. " There were vastplateaus on which not more than two or three white men had trodden, andmountain ranges almost utterly unknown--some of them within sight ofthe line we traveled on. If the map was anything to go by we couldreach Mount Elgon from Nairobi by any of three wild roads. Fred and Iunderscored the names of several places with a fountain pen. 

"And say!" said Will. "Look out of the window! If we once got awayinto country like that, who could follow us!"

"But you can't get away!" said a. Weary voice from the upper berth. "I'm Brown of Lumbwa. That's my name, gents, and I know, because Itried! Thought I was sound asleep, didn't you! Well, I weren't!Listen to me, what happens. You start off. They get wind of it. Theysend the police helter-skelter hot-foot after you--native police--noofficer--Masai they are, an' I tell you those Masai can make theirsixty miles a day when they're minded an' no bones about it either!Maybe the Masai catches you and maybe not. S'posing they do they can'tdo much. They've merely a letter with 'em commanding you to return atonce and report at the gov'ment office. And o' course--bein' ignorant, same as me, an' hot-headed, an' eager--you treat that contumelious an'tip the Masai the office to go to hell. Which they do forthwith. They're so used to bein' told to go to hell by wishful wanderers thatthey scarcely trouble to wait for the words. Presently they draw along breath an' go away again like smoke being blowed downwind. An'you proceed onward, dreamin' dreams o' gold an' frankincense an'freedom. "

"Well, what next?" said I, for he made a long pause, either forreminiscence or because of headache. 

"Whisky next!" he answered. "I left a little for the morning, didn'tI? I almost always do. Hold the bottle up to the light--no, no, you'll spill it!--pass it here! Ah-h-h--gug-gug!"

He finished what was left and tried to hurl the empty bottle throughthe window, but missed and smashed it against the woodwork. 

"'Sapity!" he murmured. "Means bad luck, that does! Poor ole Brown o'Lumbwa--poor ole fella'. Pick up the pieces, boys! Pick 'em upquick--might get some o' poor ole Brown's bad luck--cut yourselves orwhat not. Pick 'em up careful now!"

We did, and it took ten minutes, for the splinters were scatteredeverywhere. 

"Next time you do a thing like that you shall get out an' walk!"announced Fred. 

"That 'ud be only my usual luck!" he answered mournfully. "But I wastellin' how you notify the Masai police to go to hell, an' they oblige. It's the last obligin' anybody does for you. Every native's a bushtelegraph--every sleepy-seemin' one of 'em! They know tracks in an'out through the scrub that ain't on maps, an' they get past you day ornight wi'out you knowin' it, an' word goes on ahead o' you--procedesyou as the sayin' is. You come to a village. You need milk, food, Porters maybe, an' certainly inf'mation about the trail ahead. Youask. Nobody answers. They let on not to sling your kind o' lingo. Milk--never heard o' such stuff--cows in them parts don't give milk!Food? They're starving. It isn't overeating makes their bellies big, it's wind. Porters? All the young men are lame, an' old 'uns too old, an' the middle 'uns too middle-aged--an' who ever heard of a nativewoman workin' anyhow. Who tills the mtama patch, then? It don't gettilled, or else the women only 'tend to it at tillin' time. Nobodyworks at anythin' about the time you come on the scene, for work ain'tmoral, pleasin' nor profitable, an' there you are! As for the trailahead, lions an' cannibals are the two mildest kind of calamities theyguarantee you'll meet. "

"You don't have to believe them, " I argued. "No man in his senseswould start without porters of his own--"

"Who never run away, an' never, oh never go lame o' course!" said Brown. 

"Porters enough and to spare, " I continued. "And food for a month ortwo--"

"How are you going to get away right under their noses with food for amonth or two?" demanded Brown. "You've got to live off the countryafter a certain distance. The further you go, the worse for you, forthey'll sell you nothing and give you less. By and by your porters gettipped off by the natives of some village you spend a night at. Youlook for 'em next mornin' and where are they? Gone! There are theirloads, an' no one to carry 'em! You've got to leave your loads an'return, an' the police you told so stric'ly to go to hell meet you withbroad grins and lead you to the gov'ment office. There the collector, or, what's worse, the 'sistant collector, gives you a lecture on infamyan' the law of doin' as you'd be done by. You ask for your loads back, an' he laughs at you. An' that's all about it, excep' that next timeyou happen to want a favor done you by gov'ment you get a lectureinstead! No, you can't get away, an' it's no use tryin'! If you wasGreeks maybe, or Arabs, yes. Bein' English, the Indian Penal Code, which is white man's law in these parts, 'll get you sure!"

Brown of Lumbwa sighed at recollection of his wrongs, turned over, andwent to sleep again. The train bowled along over high veld, cutting inhalf magnificent distances and stopping now and then at stations whoseexcuse for existence was unimaginable. We stopped at a station at lastwhere the Hindu clerk sold tea and biscuits. The train disgorged itspassengers and there was a scramble in the tiny ticket office like therush to get through turnstiles at a football game at home, only thatthe crowd was more polyglot and less good-natured. 

Coutlass, his Greek friend and the Goanese being old travelers on thatroute were out of the train first, first into the room, and firstsupplied with breakfast. Fred and I were nearly last. Brown of Lumbwarefused to leave his berth but lay moaning of his wrongs, and theiniquity of drink not based on whisky. I missed Will in the scramble, and although it was nearly half an hour before I got served I did notcatch sight of him in all that time. 

I counted eleven nations taking tea in that tiny room and there weremembers of yet other tribes strolling the platform, holding themselvesaloof with the strange pride of the pariah the wide world over. 

When Will came in he was grinning, and his ears seemed to stick outmore than usual, as they do when he is pleased with himself. 

"Didn't I say fat Johnson was ours if we'd play our cards right?" hedemanded. 

"You mean Hassan?"

"He'd had no breakfast. He'd had no supper. He had no money. TheGreeks took away what little money he did have on the pretext that hemight buy a return ticket and desert them. They seem to think that aday or two's starvation might make him good and amenable. I found himtrying to beg a bite from a full-blooded Arab, and say! they're aloving lot. The Arab spat in his eye! I offered to buy him eats buthe didn't dare come in here for fear the Greeks 'ud thrash him, so Islipped him ten rupees for himself and he's the gratefulest fat blackman you ever set eyes on. You bet it takes food and lots of it to keepthat belly of his in shape. There's a back door to this joint. Heslipped round behind and bribed the babu to feed him on the rear step, me standing guard at the corner to keep Greeks at bay. He's back inthe car now, playing possum. "

"Let's trade him for Brown of Lumbwa, " suggested Fred genially. "Callhim into our car and kick Brown out!"

"Trade nothing! I tell you the man is ours! Call him, and he'llbargain. Let him be, and the next time the Greeks ill-treat him he'llcome straight to us in hope we'll show him kindness. "

"Swallow your tea quickly, Solomon!" Fred advised him. "There goes thewhistle!"

It was fresh tea, just that minute made for him. Will gulped down thescalding stuff and had to be thumped on the back according to Fred. With eyes filled with water he did not see what I did, and Fred was toobusy guarding against counter-blows. The most public place and thevery last minute always suited those two best for playing horse. 

"Thought you said Johnson was asleep, " said I. 

"Possuming, " coughed Will. "Shamming sleep to fool the Greeks. "

"Possuming, no doubt, " I answered, "but the Greeks are on. He has justcome scurrying out of Lady Saffren Waldon's compartment. The Greekswatched him and made no comment!'

We piled into our own appointed place and sat for a while in silence. 

"All right said Will at last, lighting his pipe. "I own I felt likequitting once. I'll see it through now if there's no ivory and nothingbut trouble! That dame can't thimblerig me!"

"We're supposed to know where the ivory is, " grinned Fred. "Keep itup! They'll hunt us so carefully that they'll save us the trouble ofwatching them!"

"I'm beginning to think we do know where the ivory is, " said I. "Ibelieve it's on Mount Elgon and they mean to prevent our getting it. "

"If that turns out true, we'll have to give them the slip, that's all, "said Fred, and got out his concertina just as Monty always played chesswhen his brain was busy, Fred likes to think to the strains of hisinfernal instrument. One could not guess what he was thinking about, but the wide world knew he was perplexed, and Lady Saffren Waldon inthe next compartment must have suffered. 

After a while he commenced picking out the tunes of comic songs, andbefore long chanced on one that somebody in the front part of the trainrecognized and began to sing. In ten minutes after that he was playingaccompaniments for a full train chorus and the seared zebra and impalabolted to right and left, pursued by Tarara-boom-de-ay, Ting-a-ling-a-ling, and other non-Homeric dirges that in those dayswere dying an all-too-lingering death. 

It was to the tune of After the Ball that the engine dippedhead-foremost into a dry watercourse, and brought the train to ajaw-jarring halt. The tune went on, and the song grew louder, fornobody was killed and the English-speaking races have a code, containing rules of conduct much more stringent than the Law of theMedes and Persians. Somebody--probably natives from a long way off, who needed fuel to cook a meal--had chopped out the hard-wood plate onwhich the beams of a temporary culvert rested. Time, white ants, gravity and luck had done the rest. It was a case thereafter of walkor wait. 

"Didn't I tell you?" moaned Brown of Lumbwa. "Didn't I say walkin' 'udbe only just my luck?"

So we walked, and reached Nairobi a long way ahead of Coutlass and hisgang, whose shoes, among other matters, pinched them; and we werecomfortably quartered in the one hotel several hours before the arrivalof Lady Saffren Waldon and those folk who elected to wait for thebreakdown gang and the relief train. 

It was a tired hotel, conducted by a tired once-missionary person, justas Nairobi itself was a tired-looking township of small parallel roofsof unpainted corrugated iron, with one main street more than a milelong and perhaps a dozen side-streets varying in length from fifty feetto half a mile. 

He must have been a very tired surveyor who pitched on that site andmarked it as railway headquarters on his map. He could have gone onand found within five miles two or three sightlier, healthier spots. But doubtless the day's march had been a long one, and perhaps he hadfever, and was cross. At any rate, there stood Nairobi, with its"tin-town" for the railway underlings, its "tin" sheds for the repairshops, its big "tin" station buildings, and its string ofpleasant-looking bungalows on the only high ground, where thegovernment nabobs lived. 

The hotel was in the middle of the main street, a square frame buildingwith a veranda in front and its laundry hanging out behind. Nairobibeing a young place, with all Africa in which to spread, town plotswere large, and as a matter of fact the sensation in our corner roomwas of being in a wilderness--until we considered the board partition. Having marched fastest we obtained the best room and the only bath, butnext-door neighbors could hear our conversation as easily as if therehad been no division at all. However, as it happened, neither Coutlassand his gang nor Lady Saffren Waldon and her maid were put next to uson either side. To our right were three Poles, to our left a Jew and aGerman, and we carried on a whispered conversation without much risk. 

She and her maid arrived last, as it was growing dusk. We had alreadyseen what there was to see of the town. We had been to the post-officeon the white man's habitual hunt, for mail that we knew wasnon-existent. And I had had the first adventure. 

I walked away from The post-office alone, trying to puzzle out bymyself the meaning of Lady Saffren Waldon's pursuit of us, and of herfriendship with the Germans, and her probable connection with GeorgesCoutlass and his riff-raff. I had not gone far either on my stroll orwith the problem--perhaps two hundred yards down a grassy track thatthey had told me led toward a settlement--when something, not a sound, not a smell, and certainly not sight, for I was staring at the ground, caused me to look up. My foot was raised for a forward step, but whatI saw then made me set it down again. 

To my right front, less than ten yards away, was a hillock about twicemy own height. To my left front, about twelve yards away was another, slightly higher; and the track passed between them. On the right-handhillock stood a male lion, full maned, his forelegs well apart and thedark tuft on the end of his tail appearing every instant to one side orthe other as be switched it cat-fashion. He was staring down at mewith a sort of scandalized interest; and there was nothing whateverfor me to do but stare at him. I had no weapon. One spring and a jumpand I was his meat. To run was cowardice as well as foolishness, theone because the other. And without pretending to be able to read alion's thoughts I dare risk the assertion that he was puzzled what todo with me. I could very plainly see his claws coming in and out oftheir sheaths, and what with that, and the switching tail, and thesense of impotence I could not take my eyes off him. So I did not lookat the other hillock at first. 

But a sound like that a cat makes calling to her kittens, only greatlymagnified, made me glance to the left in a hurry. I think that up tothat moment I had not had time to be afraid, but now the goose-fleshbroke out all over me, and the sensation up and down my spine was ofmelting helplessness. 

On the left-hand hillock a lioness stood looking down with muchintenser and more curious interest. She looked from me to her mate, and from her mate to me again with indecision that was no morereassuring than her low questioning growl. 

I do not know why they did not spring on me. Surely no two lions evercontemplated easier quarry. No victim in the arena ever watched theweapons of death more helplessly. I suppose my hour had not come. Perhaps the lions, well used to white men who attacked on sight withlong-range weapons, doubted the wisdom of experiments on something new. 

The lioness growled again. Her mate purred to her with an uprisingreassuring note that satisfied her and sent my heart into my boots. Then he turned, sprang down behind the hillock, and she followed. Thenext I saw of them they were running away like dogs, jumping lowbushes and heading for jungle on the near horizon faster than I hadimagined lions could travel. 

That ended my desire for further exercise and solitude. I made for thehotel as fast as fear of seeming afraid would let me, and spent fifteenaggravating minutes on the veranda trying to persuade Fred Oakes that Ihad truly seen lions. 

"Hyenas!" he said with the air of an old hunter, to which he was quiteentitled, but that soothed me all the less for that. 

"More likely jackals, " said Will; and he was just as much as Fredentitled to an opinion. 

While I was asserting the facts with increasing anger, and they wereamusing themselves with a hundred-and-one ridiculous reasons fordisbelieving me, Lady Saffren Waldon came. She had, as usual, attracted to herself able assistance; a settler's ox-cart brought herbelongings, and she and her maid rode in hammocks borne by portersimpressed from heaven knew where. It was not far from the station, butshe was the type of human that can not be satisfied with meekbeginnings. That type is not by any means always female, but thewomen, are the most determined on their course, and come the biggestcroppers on occasion. 

She was determined now, mistress of the situation and of her plans. She left to her maid the business of quarreling about accommodations;(there was little left to choose from, and all was bare and bad);dismissed the obsequious settler and his porters with perfunctorythanks that left him no excuse for lingering, and came along theveranda straight toward us with the smile of old acquaintance, and suchan air of being perfectly at ease that surprise was disarmed, and therudeness we all three intended died stillborn. 

"What do you think of the country?" she asked. "Men like it as a rule. Women detest it, and who can blame them? No, comfort--no manners--nocompanionship--no meals fit to eat--no amusement! Have you killedanything or anybody yet? That always amuses a man!"

We rose to make room for her and I brought her a chair. There wasnothing else one could do. There is almost no twilight in that part ofEast Africa; until dark there is scarcely a hint that the day iswaning. She sat with us for twenty or thirty minutes making smalltalk, her maid watching us from a window above, until the sun went downwith almost the suddenness of gas turned off, and in a moment we couldscarcely see one another's faces. 

Then came the proprietor to the door, with his best ex-missionary airof knowledge of all earth's ways, their reason and their trend. 

"All in!" he called. "All inside at once! No guest is allowed afterdark on the veranda! All inside! Supper presently!"

"Pah!" remarked Lady Saffren Waldon, rising. "What is it about somemen that makes one's blood boil? I suppose we must go in. "

She came nearer until she stood between the three of us, so close thatI could see her diamond-hard eyes and hear the suppressed breathingthat I suspected betrayed excitement. 

"I must speak with you three men! Listen! I know this place. Therooms are unspeakable--not a bedroom that isn't a megaphone, magnifyingevery whisper! There is only one suitable place--the main dining-room. The proprietor leaves the oil-lamp burning in there all night. Peoplego to bed early; they prefer to drink in their bedrooms because itcosts less than treating a crowd! I shall provide a light supper, andmy maid shall lay the table after everybody else is gone up-stairs. Then come down and talk with me. Its important! Be sure and come!"

She did not wait for an answer but led the way into the hotel. Therewas no hall. The door led straight into the dining-room, and the noisycrowd within, dragging chairs and choosing places at the two longtables, made further word with her impossible, even if she had nothurried up-stairs to her room. "What do you make of it--of her? Isn'tshe the limit?"

The words were scarcely out of Will's mouth when a roar that made thedishes rattle broke and echoed and rumbled in the street outside. Theinstant it died down another followed it--then three or four--then adozen all at once. There came the pattering of heavy feet, like thesound of cattle coming homeward. Yet no cattle--no buffaloes everroared that way. 

"Now you know why I ordered you all inside, " grinned the ex-missionaryowner of the place. I divined on the instant that this was his habit, to stand by the door before supper and say just those words to the lastarrivals. I had a vision of him standing by his mission dooraforetime, repeating one jest, or more likely one stale euphuism nightafter night. 

"Lions?" I asked, hating to take the bait, yet curious beyond power toresist. 

"Certainly they're lions! Did you think you were dreaming? Are youglad you came in when I called you? Would you rather go out again now? Make a noise like a herd of cattle, don't they! That's becausethey're bold. They don't care who hears them! The day is ours. Itused to be theirs, but the white man has come and broken up theirempire. The night is still theirs. They're reveling in it! They'reboasting of it! Every single night they come swaggering through likethis just after sunset. They'll come again just before dawn, roaringthe same way. You'll hear them. They'll wake you all right. Notrouble in this hotel about getting guests down-stairs for earlybreakfast!"

"I'll get my rifle and settle the hash of one or two of them before Ieat supper!" announced Will, turning away to make good his words. Butthe proprietor seized him by the arm. 

"Don't be foolish! It has been tried too often! I never allowed suchfoolishness at my place. A party up-street fired from the windows. Couldn't see very well in the dark, but wounded two or three lions. What happened, eh? Why the whole pack of lions laid siege to thehouse! They broke into the stable and killed three horses, a donkey, and all the cows and sheep. There weren't any shutters on the housewindows--nothing but glass. It wasn't long before a young lion broke awindow, and in no time there were three full-grown ones into the houseafter him. They injured one man so severely that he died next day. They only shot two of the lions that got inside. The other two gotsafely away, and since that time people here have known enough not tointerfere with them except by daylight! They'll do no harm to speak ofunless you fire and enrage them. They'll kill the stray dogs, or anyother animal they find loose; and heaven help the man they meet! Butthe place to be after six P. M. In Nairobi is indoors. And it's theplace to stay until after sunrise! Hear them roar! Aren't theymagnificent? Listen!"

The noise that twenty or thirty lions can make, deliberately bent onmaking it and roaring all at once, is unbelievable. They throw theirheads up and glory in strength of lungs until thunders take secondplace and the listener knows why not the bravest, not the mostdangerous of beasts has man aged to impose the fable of his grandeur onmen's imagination. 

We were summoned to the table by the din of Georges Coutlass rising tonew heights of gallantry. 

"Gassharamminy!" he shouted, thumping with a scarred fist. With apoultice on his eye he looked like a swashbuckler home from the wars;and as he had not troubled to shave himself, the effect was heightened. "What sort of company sits when a titled lady enters!" He seized abig spoon and rapped on the board with it. "Blood of an onion! Rise, every one!"

Everybody rose, although there were men in the room in no mind to betold their duty by a Greek. Lady Saffren Waldon walked to a place nearthe head of the table with a chilling bow. As usual when night and theyellow lamplight modified merciless outlines, she looked lovely enough. But she lacked the royal gift of seeming at home with the vulgar herd. She could make men notice her--serve her, up to a certain point--andfeel that she was the center of interest wherever she might choose tobe; but because she was everlastingly on guard, she lacked the powerto put mixed company at ease. 

Only the ex-missionary at the head of the table seemed to considerhimself socially qualified to entertain her. She was at no pains toconceal contempt for him. 

"You honor my poor hotel!" he assured her. 

"It is certainly a very poor hotel, " she answered. 

"Do you expect to remain long, may I ask?"

"What right have you to ask me questions? Tell that native to go awayfrom behind my chair. My own maid will wait on me!"

Whether purposely or not, she cast such a chill upon the company thateven Georges Coutlass subsided within himself, and, though he ate likea ravening animal, did not talk. Almost the only conversation wasbetween the owner and the native servants, who waited at tableabominably and were noisily reprimanded, and argued back. Eachreprimand increased their inefficiency and insolence. Natives detest afussy, noisy white man. 

Bad food, indifferent cooking, and no conversation worthy of the nameproduced gloom that drove every one from table as soon as possible. Even the proprietor, with unsatiable curiosity exuding from him, but nospirit for forcing issues, departed to a sanctum of his own upsomewhere under the roof. The boys cleared the tables. The smell offood spread itself and settled slowly. A half-breed butler servedcountless orders of drinks on trays, and sent them upstairs tobedrooms. Presently we three sat alone in the long bare room. 

"Shall we wait for her?" I asked. "Haven't we had enough of her?"

Fred laughed. "She can scarcely cut the throats of all three of us!"

"I said we'd never hear the last of it!" said Will, with a scowl at me. 

"Shall we wait for her?" I repeated. 

My own vote would have been in favor of going upstairs and leaving herto her own devices. I could see that Fred was afire with curiosity, but guessed that Will would agree with me. However, the point wassettled for us by the arrival of her maid, who smiled with unusualcondescension and produced from a basket an assortment of drinks, nuts, cigarettes and sandwiches. She spread them on the table and went awayagain. 

We sat and smoked for an hour after that, imagining every moment thatLady Saffren Waldon would be coming. Whenever we yawned in chorus androse to go upstairs, a footstep seemed to herald her arrival. To havepassed her on the stairs would have been too awkward to be amusing. 

At last we really made up our minds to go to bed; and then she reallycame, appearing at the bend in the stairs just as I set my foot on thelower step, so we trooped back to our chairs by the window. She wasdressed in a lacy silk negligee, and took pains this time to appeargracious. 

"I waited until I felt sure we should not be disturbed, " she said, smiling. "Won't you come and sit down?"

We brought our chairs to the table, she sitting at one end and wetogether at one side, Fred nearest her and I farthest away. She made asign toward the wine and sandwiches, and offered us cigarettes of asort I had never seen. Without feeling exactly like flies in aspider's web, we were nervous as schoolboys. 

"What do you want with us?" asked Will at last. 

She laughed and took a cigarette. 

"Don't let us talk too loud. You three men are after the Tippoo Tibivory. So is the Sultan of Zanzibar. So is the German government. Soam I"

She gave the statement time to do its own work, and smoked a while insilence. The strength of her position, and our weakness, lay in therebeing three of us. Any one of us might let drop an ill-considered wordthat would commit the others. I think we all felt that, for we sat andsaid nothing. 

"You answer her, Fred, " I said at last, and Will nodded agreement. 

So Fred got up and sat on the other side of the table, where we couldsee his face and he ours. 

"You haven't answered Mr. Yerkee question, " he said. "What do you wantwith us, Lady Saffren Waldon?"

"I want an understanding with you. I will be plain to begin with. Weall know you know where the ivory is. Lord Montdidier is not the manto connect himself with any wild goose chase. We don't pretend to knowhow you came by the secret or why he has gone to London, but we aresure you know it, perfectly sure, and for five or six reasons. We arewilling to buy the secret from you at your own price. "

"Who are 'we'?" asked Fred pointedly, helping himself to nuts. 

"The German government, the Sultan of Zanzibar, and myself. "

Fred smiled. "Between you you probably could pay, " he remarked. 

"I will tell you a few hard facts, " she said, "now that the ice isbroken. You will never be allowed to make full use of your own secret. You have arrived at an inopportune moment, for you and for us. Ourplans have been on foot a long time. Our search has been systematic, and it is a mathematical certainty we shall find what we look for intime. We do not propose to let new arrivals on the scene spoil all ourplans and disappoint us just because they happen to have information. If you go ahead you will be watched like mice whom cats are after. Ifyou find the ivory, you will be killed before you can make thediscovery known!"

"We seem up against it, don't we!" smiled Fred. 

"You are! But you can save us trouble, if you will. Name your price. Tell me your secret. Go your way. If your story proves true you shallbe paid by draft on London. "

"Are you overlooking the idea, " asked Fred, "that we might tell thesecret to the British government, and be contented with our ten percent. Commission?"

"I am not. You are expressly warned against any such foolishness. Inthe first place, you will be killed, at once if you dare. In thesecond place, how do you know the British government would pay you tenper cent. ?"

"I've had dealings with the English!" laughed Fred. 

"Bah! Do you think this is Whitehall? Do you think the officials hereare proof against temptation? When I tell you that in Whitehall itselfI can bribe two officials out of three, perhaps you'll understand mewhen I say that all these people have their price! And the price islow! Tell them where the ivory is--lead them to it--and they'll swearthey found it themselves, so as to keep the commission themselves! Andas for you--you three"--she sneered with the most sardonic, thin-lippedsmile I ever saw--"there are lions out here, and buffalo, snakes, fevers, native uprisings--more ways of being rid of you than by chokingyou to death with butter!"

"Do you suppose" asked Fred, "that Lord Montdidier has no influence inLondon, that he--"

"I know he had influence. I should have told you first, perhaps. LordMontdidier was murdered on board ship. A telegram reached Mombasayesterday at ten A. M. From up-coast saying that the body of an unknown, Englishman had been picked up at sea by an Arab dhow, with the face toobadly eaten by fish to be recognizable. You may take it from me, thatis Lord Montdidier's corpse. "

The calm announcement was intended to surprise us, and it did, but theresult surprised her. 

"You she-devil!" said Will. "If you and your gang have murdered thatfine fellow I'll turn the tables on you! You go up-stairs, and pray heisn't dead! Pray that corpse may prove to be some one's else! If he'sdead I'll guarantee you it's the worst day's work you ever had a handin! Go up-stairs!"

He flung away the cigarette she had given him and knocked his chairaway. 

"Sit down, you young fool!" she said. "Don't make all that noise!"

But Will had none of the respect for titles acquired by marriage thatmade most men an easy mark for her. 

"Leave the room!" he ordered. "Go away from us! Just you hope that'sa lie about Monty, that's all!"

"Sit down!" she repeated. "I admit I am a little previous. The storyis unconfirmed yet. Sit down and be sensible! Something of the sortwill happen to all of you unless you three men get religion!"

But Will began to pace the floor noisily, stopping to glare at her eachtime he turned. 

"Is there any sense in protracting the scene?" asked Fred. 

"No, " she admitted. "I see you are too hot-headed to be reasoned with. But it makes little difference!Fever--animals--climate--sun--flood--accident--natives--there areexcuses in plenty--explanations by the dozen! I will say good night, then--and good-by!"

"Yes, good-by!" growled Will, facing her with his back to the stairs. "You take us for men with a price, do you?"

"All men have a price, " she smiled bitterly. "Only it is no useoffering flowers to pigs! We must treat pigs another way--pigs, andyoung fools! And fools old enough to know better!" she added with anod toward Fred, who bowed to her in mock abasement--too politely, Ithought. 

Will got out of her way and she went up-stairs with the manner of anempress taking leave of subjects. Fred swept her food and wine fromthe table and stowed it in a corner, and we sat down at the table again. 

"The whole thing's getting ridiculous. " he said. 

"Why don't we hunt up some official in the morning, " I proposed, "andsimply expose her?"

"No use, " said Will. "She never followed us up here and tried thatgame without being sure of her pull. Besides--what kind of a talecould we tell without letting on we're after the ivory? I vote we seethe game through to a finish. "

"Good!" said Fred. "I agree!"

"The only clue we've got, " said I, "is Courtney's advice about MountElgon. "

"And what Coutlass said in Zanzibar about German East, " added Will. 

"Tell you what, " said Fred, rapping the table excitedly. "Instead offalling foul of this government by slipping over the dead-line, why notrun down to German East--pretend to search for the stuff downthere--and go from German East direct to Mount Elgon, giving 'em allthe slip. Who's got the map?"

"It's up-stairs, " I said. "I'll fetch it. "

There was nothing like silence in the rooms above. Men were smokingand drinking in one another's rooms. Some doors were open to makeconversation easier across the landing, and nobody was asleep. But Iwas surprised to see Georges Coutlass leaning against the door-post ofthe roomhe shared with the other Greek and the Goanese, obviously on guard, butagainst whom and on whose behalf it was difficult to guess. 

"Are you off to bed?" he asked, piercing me with his unbandaged eye. "Why don't the others go, too?"

It dawned on me what he was after. 

"Take the wine if you want it, " I said. "None of us will prevent you. "

He went down-stairs in his stocking feet, leaving his own door wide. Iglanced in. The other Greek and the Goanese were asleep. Hassan layon the floor on a mat between their cots. He looked up at me. I didnot dare speak, but I smiled at him as friendly as I knew how and madea gesture I hoped he would interpret as an invitation to come andattach himself to our party. Then I hurried on, for Coutlass wascoming back with a bottle of wine in each hand. 

I was five minutes in our bedroom. In a minute I knew what hadhappened. We had left the door locked, but the lock was a common one;probably the keys of other doors fitted it, and there was not one thingin the room placed exactly where we had left it. Everything was moreor less in place, but nothing quite. 

I returned empty-handed down-stairs, locking the bedroom door behind me. 

"Listen, you chaps!" I said. "While we waited for that woman she andher maid went through our things again!"

"How d'you know it was she?" asked Fred. 

"No mistaking the scent she uses. Where's our money?"

"Here in my pocket. "

"Good. The map's gone, though!"

Will showed big teeth in the first really happy smile for several days. 

"Good enough!" he said. "Let's go to bed now. I'll bet you my shareof the ivory they're poring over the map with a magnifying-glass!D'you remember the various places we underscored? They'll think it's acryptogram and fret ever it all night! Come on--come to bed!"

CHAPTER SIX

THE SONG OF THE GREAT GAME RESERVE

Noah was our godfather, and he pitched and caulked a ship'With stable-room for two of each and fodder for the trip, Lest when the Flood made sea of earth the animals should die;And two by two he stalled us till the wrath of God was by. But who in the name of the Pentateuch can the paleface people beWho ha' done on the plains of Africa more than he did at sea?

A million hoofs once drummed the dust (Kongoni led the way!)>From river-pool to desert-lick we thundered in arrayUntil the dark-skin people came with tube and smoke and shot, Hunting and driving and killing, and leaving the meat to rot. And we didn't know who the hunters were, but we saw the herds growthinThat used to drum the dust-clouds up with thousand-footed din. 

We were few when the paleface people came--scattered and few andafraid. Fewer were they, but they brought the law, and the dark-skin menobeyed. The paleface people drew a line that none by dark or dayMight cross with fell intent to hunt--capture or drive or slay. But who ran the paleface people be with red-meat appetitesWho ruled anew what Noah knew--that animals have rights?

And now in the Athi Game Reserve--in a million-acre parkA million creatures graze who went by twos into the Ark. We sleep o' nights without alarm (Kongoni, prick your ear!)And barring the leopard and lion to watch, and ticks, we've noughtto fear, Zebra, giraffe and waterbuck, rhino and ostrich too--But who can the paleface people be who know what Noah knew?

The lions awoke us a little before dawn as the proprietor had promised. They seemed to have had bad hunting, for their boastfulness was gone. They came in twos and threes, snarling, only roaring intermittently--ina hurry because the hated daylight would presently reverse conditionsand put them at disadvantage. 

I grew restless and got up. The air being chilly, I put my clothes onand sat for a while by the window. So it happened I caught sight ofHassan, very much afraid of lions, but obviously more afraid of beingseen from the hotel windows. He was sneaking along as close to thehouse as he could squeeze, his head just visible above the veranda rail. 

For no better reason than that I was curious and unoccupied, I slippedout of the house and followed him. 

Once clear of the hotel he seemed to imagine himself safe, for withoutanother glance backward he ran up-street in the direction of thebazaar. I followed him down the bazaar--a short street of corrugatediron buildings--and out the other end. Being fat, he could not runfast, although his wind held out surprisingly. If he saw me at all hemust have mistaken me for a settler or one of the Nairobi officials, for he seemed perfectly sure of himself and took no pains whatever nowto throw pursuers off the track. 

It soon became evident that he was making for an imposing group oftents on the outskirts of the town. As he drew nearer he approachedmore slowly. 

It now became my turn to take precautions. There was no chance ofconcealment where I was--nothing but open level ground between me andthe tents. But now that I knew Hassan's destination, I could afford tolet him out of sight for a minute; so I turned my back on him, walkedto where a sort of fold in the ground enabled me to get down unseeninto a shallow nullah, and went along that at right angles to Hassan'scourse until I reached the edge of some open jungle, about half a milefrom the tents. I noticed that it came to an end at a spot about threehundred yards to the rear of the tents, so I worked my way along itsouter edge, and so approached the encampment from behind. 

I had brought a rifle with me, not that I expected to shoot anything, but because the lion incident of the previous afternoon had taught mecaution. It had not entered my head that in that country a strangewhite man without a rifle might have been regarded as a member of themean white class; nor that anybody would question my right to carry arifle, for that matter. 

The camp was awake now. There were ten tents, all facing one way. Twoof them contained stores. The central round tent with an awning infront was obviously a white man's. One tent housed a mule, and therest were for native servants and porters. The camp was tidy andclean--obviously belonging to some one of importance. Fires werealight. Breakfast was being cooked, and smelled most uncommonlyappetizing in that chill morning air. Boys were already cleaningboots, and a saddle, and other things. There was an air of disciplineand trained activity, and from the central tent came the sound ofvoices. 

I don't know why, but I certainly did not expect to hear English. Sothe sound of English spoken with a foreign accent brought me to astandstill. I listened to a few words, and made no further bones abouteavesdropping. Circumstances favored me. The boys had seen I wascarrying a rifle and was therefore a white man of importance, so theydid not question my right to approach. The tent with the mule in itand the two store tents were on the right, pitched in a triangle. Ipassed between them up to the very pegs of the central tent from whichthe voices came, and discovered I was invisible, unless some one shouldhappen to come around a corner. I decided to take my chance of that. 

The first thing that puzzled me was why a German (for it was aperfectly unmistakable German accent) should need to talk English to anative who was certainly familiar with both Arabic and Kiswahili. WhenI heard the German addressed as Bwana Schillingschen I wondered stillmore, for from all accounts that individual could speak more nativetongues than most people knew existed. It did not occur to me at thetime that if he wished not to be understood by his own crowd of boys hemust either speak German or English, and that Hassan would almostcertainly know no German. 

"A good thing you came to me!" I heard. The accent was clumsy for aman so well versed in tongues. "Yes, I will give you money at theright time. Tell me no lies now! There will be letters coming frompeople you never saw, and I shall know whether or not you lie to me!You say there are three of the fools?"

"Yes, bwana. There were four, but one going home--big lord gentleman, him having black m'stache, gone home. "

There was no mistaking Hassan's voice. No doubt he could speak hismother tongue softly enough, but in common with a host of other peoplehe seemed to imagine that to make himself understood in English he mustshout. 

"Why did he go home?"

"I don't know, bwana. "

"Did they quarrel?"

"Sijui. "* [* Sijui, I don't know: the most aggravating word InAfrica, except perhaps bado kidogo, which means "presently, " "bye andbye, " "in a little while. "

"Don't you dare say 'sijui' to me!"

"Maybe they quarrel, maybe not. They all quarreling with LadySaffunwardo--staying in same hotel, Tippoo Tib one time his house--shewanting maybe go with him to London. He saying no. Others saying no. All very angry each with other an' throwing bwana masikini, Greek man, down hotel stairs. "

"What had he to do with it?"

"Two Greek man an' one Goa all after ivory, too. She--Lady Saffunwardoafterwards promising pay them three if they come along an' do what shetell 'em. They agreeing quick! Byumby Tippoo Tib hearing bazaar talkan' sending me along too. She refuse to take me, all because Germanconsul man knowing me formerly and not making good report, but Greekbwana he not caring and say to me to come along. Greek people verybad! No food--no money--nothing but swear an' kick an' call badnames--an' drunk nearly all the time!"

"What makes you think these three men know where the ivory is?" saidthe German voice. It was the voice of a man very used to questioningnatives--self-assertive but calm--going straight each time to the point. 

"They having map. Map having marks on it. "

"How do you know?"

"She--Lady Saffunwardo go in their bedroom, stealing it last night. "

"Did you see her take it?"

"Yes, bwana. "

"Did you see the marks on it?"

"No, bwana. "

"Then how do you know the marks were on it? Now, remember, don't lieto me!"

"Coutlass, him Greek man, standing on stairs keeping watch. Them threemen you call fools all sitting in dining-room waiting because theythinking she come presently. She send maid to their room. Maid, foolwoman, upset everything, finding nothing. 'No, ' she say, 'no map--nomoney--no anything in here. ' An' Lady Saffunwardo she very angry an'say, 'Come out o' there! Let me look!' And Lady Saffunwardo going in, but maid not coming out, an' they both search. Then Lady Saffanwardosaying all at once, 'Here it is. Didn't you see this?' An' the maidanswering, 'Oh, that! That nothing but just ordinary pocket map! Thatnot it!' But Lady Saffunwardo she opening the map, an' make littlescream, an' say, 'Idiot! This is it! Look! See! See the marks!'So, bwana, I then knowing must be marks on map!"

"Good. What did she do with it?"

"Sujui. "

"I told you not to dare say 'sijui' to me!"

"How should I know, bwana, , what she doing with it?"

"Could you steal it?"

"No, bwana!"

"Why not?"

"You not knowing that woman! No man daring steal from her! She veryterrible!"

"If I offered you a hundred rupees could you steal it?"

"Sujui, bwana. "

"I told you not to use that word!"

"Bwana, I--"

"Could you steal it?"

"Maybe. "

"That is no answer!"

"Say that again about hundred rupees!"

"I will give you a hundred rupees if you bring me that map and itproves to be what you say. "

"I go. I see. I try. Hundred rupees very little money!"

"It's all you'll get, you black rascal! And you know what you'll getif you fail! You know me, don't you? You understand my way? Stealthat map and bring it here, and I shall give you a hundred rupees. Fail, and you shall have a hundred lashes, and what Ahmed and Abdullahand Seydi got in addition! The hundred lashes first, and the ant-hillafterward! You're not fool enough to think you can escape me, Isuppose?"

"No. Bwana. "

"Then go and get the map!"

"But afterward, what then? She very gali* woman. " [*Gali, same asHindustani kali--cruel, hard, fierce, terrible. ]

"Nonsense! Steal the map and bring it here to me. Then I've otherwork for you. Are you a renegade Muhammedan?"

"No, bwana! No, no! Never! I'm good Moslem. "

"Very well. Back to your old business with you! Preach Islam up anddown the country. Go and tell all the tribes in British territory thatthe Germans are coming soon to establish an empire of Islam in Africa!Good pay and easy living! Does that suit you?"

"Yes, bwana. How much pay?"

"I'll tell you when you bring the map. Now be going!"

Hassan went, after a deal of polite salaaming. Then boys beganbringing the German's breakfast, and unless I chose to confess myselfan eavesdropper it became my business to be in the tent ahead of them. So I strode forward as if just arrived and purposely tripped over atent-rope, stumbling under the awning with a laugh and an apology. 

"Who are you?" demanded the German without rising. He had the splayshovel beard described to us in Zanzibar--big dark man, sitting in thedoorway of a tent all hung with guns, skins and antlers. He was innight-shirt and trousers--bare feet--but with a helmet on the back ofhis head. 

"A visitor, " I answered, "staying at the hotel--out for a morning shotat something--had no luck--got nothing--saw your tents in the distance, and came out of curiosity to find out who you are. "

"My name is Professor Schillingschen, " he answered, still withoutgetting up. There was no other chair near the awning, so I had toremain standing. I told him my name, hoping that Hassan had either notdone so already, or else that he might have so bungled thepronunciation as to make it unrecognizable. I detected no sign ofrecognition on Schillingschen's face. 

The boys reached the tent with his breakfast, and one of them dragged achair from inside the tent for me. I sat down on it without waitingfor the professor to invite me. 

"I'm tired, " I said, untruthfully, minded to refuse an invitation toeat, but interested to see whether he would invite me or not. 

"Have you any friends at the hotel?" he asked, looking up at me darklyunder the bushiest eyebrows I ever saw. 

"I've got friends wherever I go, " I answered. "I make friends. "

"Are you going far?" he demanded, holding out a foot for his boy topull a stocking on. 

"That depends, " I said. 

"On what?"

"On whether I get employment. "

I said that at random, without pausing to think what impression I mightcreate. He pulled the night-shirt off over his head, throwing thehelmet to the ground, and sat like a great hairy gorilla for the boy tohang day-clothes on him. He had the hairiest breast and arms I eversaw, hung with lumpy muscles that heightened his resemblance to an ape. 

"I might give you work, " he said presently, beginning to eat before theboy had finished dressing him. 

"I want to travel" I said. "If I could find a job that would take meup and down the length and breadth of this land, that would suit mefinely. "

"That is the kind of a man I want, " he said, eying me keenly. "I havea German, but I need an Englishman. Do you speak native languages?"

"Scarcely a word. "

To my surprise he nodded approval at that answer. 

"I have parties of natives traveling all over the country gatheringfolk lore, and ethnographical particulars, but they get into a villageand sit down for whole weeks at a time, drawing pay for doing nothing. I need an Englishman to go with them and keep them moving. "

"All well and good, " I said, "but I understand the government is not infavor of white men traveling about at random. "

"But I am known to the government, " he answered. "I have been accordedfacilities because of my professional standing. Have you referencesyou can give me?"

"No, " I said. "No references. "

I thought that would stump him, but on the contrary he looked ratherpleased. 

"That is good. References are too frequently evidence of back-stairsinfluence. "

All this while he kept eying me between mouthfuls. Whenever I seemedto look away his eyes fairly burned holes in me. Whenever food got inhis beard (which was frequently) be used the napkin more as a shieldbehind which to take stock of me than as a means of getting cleanagain. By the time his breakfast was finished his beard was a beastlymess, but he probably had my features from every angle fixed indeliblyin his memory. The sensation was that I had been analyzed and cardindexed. 

"I pay good wages, " he remarked, and then stuck his face, beard andall, into the basin of warm water his boy had brought. "Where did youget that rifle?" he demanded, spluttering, and combing the beard outwith his fingers. 

It was on the tip of my tongue to say "At Zanzibar, " but, as that mighthave started him on a string of questions as to how I came to thatplace and whom I knew there, I temporized. 

"Oh, I bought it from a man. "

"That is no answer!" he retorted. 

If I had been possessed of much inclination to play deep games andmatch wits with big rascals I suppose I would have answered him civillyand there and then learned more of his purpose. But I was notprepossessed by his charms or respectful of his claim to superiority. The German type super-education never did impress me as compatible withgood breeding or good sense, and it annoyed me to have to lie to him. 

"It's all the answer you'll get!" I said. 

"Where is your license for it?" he growled. 

The game began to amuse me. 

"None of your business!" I answered. 

"How long have you been in the country!"

"Since I came, " I said. 

"And you have no license! You have been out shooting. A lucky thingyou came to my camp and not to some other man's! The game laws arevery strict!"

He spoke then to a boy who was standing behind me, giving him verycareful directions in a language of which I did not know one word. Theboy went away. 

"The last man who went shooting near Nairobi without a license, " hesaid, "tried to excuse himself before the magistrate by claimingignorance of the law. He was fined a thousand rupees and sentenced tosix months in jail!"

"Very severe!" I said. 

"They are altogether too severe, " he answered. "I hope you have killednothing. It is good you came first to me. You would better stand thatrifle over here in the corner of my tent. To walk back to the hotelwith it over your shoulder would be dangerous. "

"I've taken bigger chances than that, " said I. 

"If you have shot nothing, then it is not so serious, " he said, disappearing behind a curtain into the recesses of his tent. 

He stayed in there for about ten minutes. I had about made up my mindto walk away when four of his boys approached the tent from behind, andone of them cried "Hodi!" The boy to whom he had given directionsacross my shoulder was not among them. 

They threw the buck down near my feet, and he came out from the gloomyinterior and stared at it. He asked them questions rapidly in thenative tongue, and they answered, pointing at me. 

"They say you shot it, " he told me, stroking his great beardalternately with either hand. 

"Then they lie!" I answered. 

"Let me see that rifle!" he said, reaching out an enormous freckledfist to take it. 

I saw through his game at last. It would have been the easiest thingin the world to extract a cartridge from the clip in the magazine andclaim afterward that I had fired it away. Evidently he proposed to getme in his power, though for just what reason he was so determined tomake use of me rather than any one else was not so clear. 

"So I shot the buck, did I?" I asked. 

"Those four natives say they saw you shoot it. "

"Then it's mine?"

He nodded. 

"It's heavy, " I said, "but I expect I can carry it. "

I took the buck by the hind legs and swung myself under it. It weighedmore than a hundred pounds, but the African climate had not had timeenough to sap my strength or destroy sheer pleasure in muscular effort. 

"What's mine's my own I" I laughed. "You gave me something to eat afterall! Good day, and good riddance!"

The boys tried to prevent my carrying the buck away. 

"Come back!" growled the professor. "I will take responsibility forthat buck and save you from punishment. Bring it back! Lay it down!"

But I continued to walk away, so he ordered his boys to take thecarcass from me. I laid it down and threatened them with my butt end. He brought his own rifle out and threatened me with that. I laughed athim, bade him shoot if he dared, offered him three shots for a penny, and ended by shouldering the buck again and walking off. 

Meat was cheap in Nairobi in those days, so the owner of the hotel wasnot so delighted as I expected. He reprimanded me for being late forbreakfast, and told me I was lucky to get any. Fred and Will hadwaited for me, and while we ate alone and I told them the story of mymorning's adventure a police officer in khaki uniform tied up his muleoutside and clattered in. 

"Whose buck is that hanging outside the kitchen?" he demanded. 

"There's some doubt about it, " I said. "I've been accused of being theowner. "

"Then you're the man I want. The court sits at nine. You'd better bethere, or you'll be fetched!"

He placed in my hand what proved to be a summons to appear before thedistrict court that morning on the charge of carrying an unregisteredrifle and shooting game without a license. Two native policemen he hadwith him took down the buck from the hook outside the kitchen door andcarried it off as evidence. 

We finished our breakfast in great contentment, and strode offarm-in-arm to find the court-house, feeling as if we were going to aplay--perhaps a mite indignant, as if the subject of the play were onewe did not quite approve, but perfectly certain of a good time. 

The court was crowded. The bearded professor, his four boys, and twoother natives were there, as well as several English officials, allapparently on very good terms indeed with Schillingschen. 

As we entered the court under the eyes of a hostile crowd I heard oneofficial say to the man standing next him:

"I hope he'll make an example of this case. If he doesn't every newarrival in this country will try to take the law in his own hands. Ihope he fines him the limit!"

"Give me your hunting-knife, Fred!" said I, and Fred laughed as hepassed it to me. For the moment I think he thought I meant to plungeit into the too talkative official's breast. 

First they called a few township cases. A drunken Muhammedan was finedfive rupees, and a Hindu was ordered to remove his garbage heap beforenoon. Three natives were ordered to the chain-gang for a week forfighting, and a Masai charged with stealing cattle was remanded. Thenmy case was called, very solemnly, by a magistrate scarcely any olderthan myself. 

The police officer acted as prosecutor. He stated that "acting oninformation received" he had proceeded to the hotel. Outside of whichhe saw a buck hanging (buck produced in evidence); that he had enteredthe hotel, found me at breakfast, and that I had not denied having shotthe buck. He called his two colored askaris to prove that, and theyreeled off what they had to say with the speed of men who had beenthoroughly rehearsed. Then he put the German on the stand, andSchillingschen, with a savage glare at me, turned on his verbalartillery. He certainly did his worst. 

"This morning, " be announced, after having been duly sworn on the Book, "that young man whose name I do not know approached my tent while I wasdressing. The sound of a rifle being fired had awakened me earlierthan usual. He carried a rifle, and I put two and two together andconcluded he had shot something. Not having seen him ever before, andhe standing before my tent, I asked him his name. He refused to tellme, and that made me suspicious. Then came my four boys carrying abuck, which they assured me they had seen him shoot. I asked himwhether he had a license to shoot game, and he at once threatened toshoot me if I did not mind my own business. Therefore, I sent a noteto the police at once. "

His four boys were then put on the stand in turn, and told their storythrough an interpreter. Their words identical. If the interpreterspoke truth one account did not vary from the next in the slightestdegree, and that fact alone should have aroused the suspicion of anyunprejudiced judge. 

Having the right to cross-examine, I asked each in turn whether therifle I had brought with me to court was the same they had seen meusing. They asserted it was. Then I recalled the German and asked himthe same question. He also replied in the affirmative. I asked himhow he knew. He said he recognized the mark on the butt where thevarnish had been chafed away. Then I handed the hunting knife I had borrowed from to the policeofficer and demanded that he have the bullet cut out of the buck'scarcass. The court could not object to that, so under the eyes of atleast fifty witnesses a flattened Mauser bullet was produced. I calledattention to the fact that my rifle was a Lee-Enfield that could notpossibly have fired a Mauser bullet. The court was young and verydignified--examined the bullet and my rifle--and had to be convinced. 

"Very well, " was the verdict on that count, "it is proved that you didnot shoot this particular buck, unless the police have evidence thatyou used a different rifle. "

The policeman confessed that he had no evidence along that line, so thefirst charge was dismissed. 

"But you are charged, " said the magistrate, "with carrying anunregistered rifle, and shooting without a license. "

For answer I produced my certificate of registration and the big gamelicense we had paid for in Mombasa. 

"Why didn't you say so before?" demanded the magistrate. 

"I wasn't asked, " said I. 

"Case dismissed!" snapped his honor, and the court began to empty. 

"Don't let it stop there!" urged Will excitedly. "That Heinie and hisboys have all committed perjury; charge them with it!"

I turned to the police officer. 

"I charge all those witnesses with perjury!" I said. 

"Oh, " he laughed, "you can't charge natives with that. If the lawagainst perjury was strictly enforced the jails wouldn't hold afiftieth of them! They don't understand. "

"But that blackguard with a beard--that rascal Schillingschenunderstands!" said I. "Arrest him! Charge him with it!"

"That's for the court to do, " he answered. "I've no authority. "

The magistrate had gone. 

"Who is the senior official in this town?" I demanded. 

"There he goes, " he answered. "That man in the white suit with theround white topee is the collector. "

So we three followed the collector to his office, arriving about twominutes after the man himself. The Goanese clerk had been in thecourt, and recognized me. He had not stayed to hear the end. 

"Fines should be paid in the court, not here!" he intimated rudely. 

We wasted no time with him but walked on through, and the collectorgreeted us without obvious cordiality. He did not ask us to sit down. 

"My friend here has come to tell you about that man Schillingschen, "said Fred. 

"I suppose you mean Professor Schillingschen!"

The collector was a clean-shaven man with a blue jowl that sufferedfrom blunt razors, and a temper rendered raw by native cooking. But hehad photos of feminine relations and a little house in a dreary Midlandstreet on his desk, and was no doubt loyal to the light he saw. Iwished we had Monty with us. One glimpse of the owner of a title thatstands written in the Doomsday Book would have outshone the halo ofSchillingschen's culture. 

I rattled off what I had to say, telling the story from th moment Istarted to follow Hassan from the hotel down to the end, omittingnothing. 

"Schillingschen is worse than a spy. He's a black-hearted, schemer. He's planning to upset British rule in this Protectorate and make iteasy for the Germans to usurp!"

"This is nonsense!" the collector interrupted. "ProfessorSchillingschen is the honored friend of the British government. Hecame to us here with the most influential backing--letter ofintroduction from very exalted personages, I assure you! ProfessorSchillingschen is one of the most, if not the most, learnedethnologists in the world to-day. How dare you traduce him!"

"But you heard him tell lies in court!" I gasped. "You were there. You heard his evidence absolutely disproved. How do you explain thataway?"

"I don't attempt to! The explanation is for you to make!" he answered. "The fact that he did not succeed in proving his case againstyou is nothing in itself! Many a case in court is lost from lack ofproper evidence! And one more matter! Lady Isobel Saffren Waldon isstaying--or rather, I should say, was staying at the hotel. She is nowstaying at my house. She complains to me of very rude treatment at thehands of you three men--insolent treatment I should call it! I canassure you that the way to get on in this Protectorate is not to behavelike cads toward ladies of title! I understand that her maid is afraidto be caught alone by any one of you, and that Lady Saffren Waldonherself feels scarcely any safer!"

Fred and I saw the humor of the thing, and that enabled us to save Willfrom disaster. There never was a man more respectful of women thanWill. He would even get off the sidewalk for a black woman, and wouldneither tell nor laugh at the sort of stories that pass current aboutwomen in some smoking-rooms. His hair bristled. His ears stuck out oneither side of his head. He leaned forward--laid one strong brown handon the desk--and shook his left fist under the collector's nose. 

"You poor boob!" he exploded. Then he calmed himself. "I'm sorry foryour government if you're the brightest jewel it has for this job!That Jane will use everything you've got except the squeal! Greatsuffering Jemima! Your title is collector, is it? Do you collect bugsby any chance? You act like it! So help you two men and a boy, abughouse is where I believe you belong! Come along, fellows, he'llbite us if we stay!"

"Be advised" said the collector, leaning back in his chair andsneering. "Behave yourselves! This is no country for taking chanceswith the law!"

"Remember Courtney's advice, " said Fred when we got outside. "Supposewe give him a few days to learn the facts about Lady Isobel, and thengo back and try him again?"

"Say!" answered Will, stopping and turning to face us. "What d'youtake me for? I like my meals. I like three squares a day, andtobacco, and now and then a drink. But if this was the Sahara, andthat man had the only eats and drinks, I'd starve. "

"Telling him the truth wouldn't be accepting favors from him, "counseled Fred. 

"I wouldn't tell him the time!"

That attitude--and Will insisted that all the officials in the landwould prove alike--limited our choice, for unless we were to allayofficial suspicion it would be hopeless to get away northward. Southward into German East seemed the only way to go; there wasapparently no law against travel in that direction. On our way to thehotel we passed Coutlass, striding along smirking to himself, headedtoward the office from which we had just come. 

"I'll bet you, " said Will, "he's off to get an ammunition permit, andpermission to go where he damned well pleases! I'll bet he gets both!This government's the limit!"

We laughed, but Will proved more than half right. Coutlass did getammunition. Lady Saffren Waldon's influence was already strong enoughfor that. He did not ask for leave to go anywhere for the simplereason that his movements depended wholly on ours--a fact thatdeveloped later. 

At the hotel there was a pleasant surprise for us. A squarely built, snub-nosed native, not very dark skinned but very ugly--his right earslit, and almost all of his left ear missing--without any of the brassor iron wire ornaments that most of the natives of the land affect, butpossessed of a Harris tweed shooting jacket and, of all unexpectedthings, boots that he carried slung by the laces from his neck-waitedfor us, squatting with a note addressed to Fred tied in a cleft stick. 

It does not pay to wax enthusiastic over natives, even when onesuspects they bring good news. We took the letter from him, told himto wait, and went on in. Once out of the man's hearing Fred tore theletter open and read it aloud to us. 

 "Herewith my Kazimoto, " it ran. "Be good to him. Itoccurred to me that you might not care after all to linger inNairobi, and it seemed hardly fair to keep the boy from getting a goodjob simply because be could make me comfortable for theremainder of a week. So, as there happened to be ae special traingoing up I begged leave for him to ride in the caboose. He isa splendid gun- bearer. He never funks, but reloads coolly under themost nerve-trying conditions. He has his limitations, of course, but I have found him brave and faithful, and I pass him along to youwith confidence. 

 "And by the way: he has been to Mount Elgon with me. Iwas not looking for buried ivory, but he knows where the cavesare in which anything might be! "Wishing you all good luck, Yours truly, "F. Courtney"

For the moment we felt like men possessed of a new horse apiece. Wewere for dashing out to look the acquisition over. But Will checked us. 

"Recall what Courtney said about a dog?" he asked. "We can't all ownhim!"

Fred sat down. "Ex-missionaries own dice, " he announced. "That's howthey come to be ex! You'll find them in the little box on the shelf, Will. We'll throw a main for Kazimoto!"

"I know a better gamble than that!'

"Name it, America. "

"Bring the coon in and have him choose. "

So I went out and felt tempted to speak cordially to the homeless uglyblack man--to give him a hint that he was welcome. But it is a fatalmistake to make a "soft" impression on even the best natives at thestart. 

"Karibu!"* I said gruffly when I had looked him over, using one of thesix dozen Swahili words I knew as yet. [*Karibu, enter, come in. ]

He arose with the unlabored ease that I have since learned to look forin all natives worth employing; and followed me indoors. Will andFred were seated in judicial attitudes, and I took a chair beside them. 

"What is your name?" demanded Fred. 

"Kazimoto. "

"Um-m! That means 'Work-like-the-devil. ' Let us hope you live up toit. Your former master gives you a good character. "

"Why not, bwana? My spirit is good. "

"Do you want work?"

"Yes. "

"How much money do you expect to get?"

"Sijui!"

"Don't say sijui!" I cut in, remembering Schillingschen's method. 

"Six rupees a month and posho, " he said promptly. Posho means rations, or money in lieu of rations. 

"Don't you rather fancy yourself?" suggested Fred with a perfectlystraight face. 

"Say two dollars a month all told!" Will whispered to me behind hishand. 

"I am a good gun-bearer!" the native answered. "My spirit is good. Iam strong. There is nobody better than me as a gun-bearer!"

"We happen to want a headman, " answered Fred. "Have you ever beenheadman?"

"Would you like to be?"

"Yes. "

"Are you able?"

"Surely. "

"Choose, then. Which of us would you like to work for?"

"You!" he answered promptly, pointing at Fred. 

It was on the tip of the tongue of every one of us to ask him instantlywhy, but that would have been too rank indiscretion. It never pays toseem curious about a native's personal reasons, and it was many weeksbefore we knew why he had made up his mind in advance to choose Fredand not either of us for his master. 

His choice made, and the offer of his services accepted, he took overFred forthwith--demanded his keys--found out which our room was--wentover our belongings and transferred the best of our things into Fred'sbag and the worst of his into ours--remade Fred's bed after amysterious fashion of his own, taking one of my new blankets and one ofWill's in exchange for Fred's old ones--cleaned Fred's guns thoroughlyafter carefully abstracting the oil and waste from our gun-cases andtransferring them to Fred's--removed the laces from my shooting bootsand replaced them with Fred's knotted ones--sharpened Fred's razors andshaved himself with mine (to the enduring destruction of its onceartistic edge)--and departed in the direction of the bazaar. 

He returned at the end of an hour and a half with a motley following ofabout twenty, arrayed in blankets of every imaginable faded hue and inevery stage of dirtiness. 

"You wanting cook, " he announced. "These three making cook. "

He waved three nondescripts to the front, and we chose a tall Swahilibecause he grinned better than the others. "Although, " as Fredremarked, "what the devil grinning has to do with cooking is more thananybody knows. " The man, whose name was Juma, turned out to be anexecrable cook, but as he never left off grinning under anycircumstances (and it would have been impossible to imaginecircumstances worse than those we warred with later on) we never hadthe heart to dismiss him. 

After that, Will and I selected a servant apiece who were destinedforever to wage war on Kazimoto in hopeless efforts to prevent hisgiving Fred the best end of everything. Mine was a Baganda who calledhimself Matches, presumably because his real name was unpronounceable. Will chose a Malindi boy named Tengeneza (and that means arrange inorder, fix, make over, manage, mend--no end of an ominous name!). Theywere both outclassed from the start by Kazimoto, but to add to thehandicap he insisted that since he was a headman he would need some oneto help look after Fred at times when other duties would monopolize hisattention. He himself picked out an imp of mischief whose tribe Inever ascertained, but who called himself Simba (lion), and there andthen Simba departed up-stairs to steal for Fred whatever was left ofvalue among Will's effects and mine. 

We had scarcely got used to the idea of once more having a savageapiece to wait on us when Kazimoto turned up at the door with a stringof porters and a Goanese railway clerk. We had left our tents andheavy baggage checked at the station, but had said nothing about themto our new headman; however, he had made inquiries and worked out aplan on his own account. The railway clerk asked to know whether heshould let Kazimoto have our things. 

"Why?"' demanded Fred. 

"This hotel no good!" announced Kazimoto. "No place for boys. Heaptoo many plenty people. Pitching camp, that good!"

"All right, " said Fred, and then and there paid our baggage charges. 

Presently Brown of Lumbwa, who had spent most of the daylight hours inThe little corrugated iron bar run by a Goanese in the bazaar, camelurching past the township camping ground, and viewed Kazimoto with hisgang pitching our tents. He asked questions, but could get noinformation, so came along to us. 

"Where you schaps going?" he demanded, leaning against the wall. Fredtook advantage of the opportunity and examined him narrowly as to hisknowledge of German East and ways of getting there. He was in anaggravating mood that made at one moment a very well of information ofhim, and at the next a mere garrulous ass. 

"Come along o' me t' Lumbwa, " was his final word on the matter. "I'llput you on a road nobody knows an' nobody, uses!"

We spent that night under canvas and talked the matter out. The usualway to reach Lumbwa was to wait for a freight, or construction trainand beg leave to ride on that, for as yet, no passenger trains wererunning regularly on the western section of the line. But there was norule against traveling anywhere south of the equator, and it was ourpurpose to march down into German East without any one being the wiser. 

The next morning we imagined Brown was sober and sorry enough to holdhis tongue, so, without going into details with him, we agreed to gowith him "some of the way, " and Fred spent the whole of that morning inthe bazaar buying loads of food and general supplies. Will and Iengaged porters, and with Kazimoto's aid as interpreter, had fiftyready to march that afternoon. 

The whole trick of starting on a journey is to start. If you only makea mile or two the first day you have at least done better than standstill; loads have been apportioned and porters broken in to someextent; you have broken the spell of inertia, and hereafter there isless likely to be trouble. We made up our minds to get away thatafternoon, and I was sent back to the hotel to find Brown, who had gonefor his belongings. 

If Brown had stayed sober all might have been well, but his headacheand feeling of unworthiness had been too much for him and I found himwith a straw in the neck of a bottle of whisky alternately laying downlaw to Georges Coutlass and drinking himself into a state of temporarybliss. 

"You Greeks dunno nothin'!" he asserted as I came in. "You never didknow nothin', an' you're never goin' to know nothin'! 'Cause why?'I'll tell you. Simply because I am goin' to tell! I'm mum, I am!When s'mother gents an' me 'ave business, that's our business--see!None o' your business--'ss our business, an' I'm not goin' to tell youGreeks nothin' about where we're off to, nor why, nor when. An' youput that in your pipe an' smoke it!"

I sat in the dining-room for a while, hoping that the Greek would goaway; but as Brown was fast drinking himself into a condition when hecould not have been moved except on stretcher, and was momentarilyedging closer to an admission of all he knew or guessed about ourintention, I took the bull by the horns at last--snatched away hiswhisky bottle, and walked off with it. 

He came after me swearing like a trooper, and his own porters, who hadbeen waiting for more than an hour beside his loads, trailed alongafter him. Once in our camp we made a hammock for him out of a blankettied to a pole, and made him over to two porters with the promise thatthey would get no supper if they lost him. Then we started--uphill, toward the red Kikuyu heights, where settlers were already trying togrow potatoes for which there was no market, and onions that would onlyrun to seed. 

To our left rear and right front were the highest mountain ranges inAfrica. Before us was the pass through which the railway threaded overthe wide high table-land before dipping downward to Victoria Nyanza. On our left front was all Kikuyu country, and after that Lumbwa, andnative reserves, and forest, and swamp, and desert, and the Germanboundary. 

We made a long march of it that first day, and camped after dark withintwo miles of Kikuyu station. Most of the scrub thereabouts was castoroil plant, that makes very poor fuel; yet there were lions in plentythat roared and scouted around us even before the tents were pitched. 

Nobody got much sleep that night, although the porters were perfectlyindifferent to the risk of snoozing on the watch. Kazimoto produced athing called a kiboko--a whip of hippopotamus-hide a yard and a halflong, and with the aid of that and Will's good humor we constituted ayelling brigade, whose business was to make the welkin ring withgodless noises whenever a lion came close enough to be dangerous. 

I made up a signal party of all our personal boys with our lanterns, swinging them in frantic patterns in the darkness in a way to terrifythe very night itself. Fred played concertina nearly all night long, and when dawn came, though there were tracks of lions all about thecamp we were only tired and sleepy. Nobody was missing; nobody killed. 

We never again took lions so seriously, although we always built firesabout the camp in lion country when that was possible. Partly by dintof carelessness that brought no ill results, and partly fromobservation we learned that where game is plentiful lions are morecurious than dangerous, and that unless something should happen toenrage them, or the game has gone away and they are hungry, they arelikely to let well alone. 

If there are dogs in camp--and we bought three terrier pups thatmorning from a settler at Kikuyu--leopards are likely to be moretroublesome than lions. The leopards seemed to yearn for dog-meat muchas Brown of Lumbwa yearned for whisky. 

The journey to Lumbwa is one of the pleasantest I remember. We tookBrown's supply of whisky from him, locked up with our own, sent himahead in the hammock, and let him as work as guide by promises ofwhisky for supper if he did his duty, and threats of mere cold water ifhe failed. 

"But water rots my stomach!" he objected. 

"Lead on, then!" was the invariable, remorseless answer. So Brown leduntil we reached Naivasha with its strange lake full of hippo at anelevation so great that the mornings are frosty (and that within sightof the line) there was never a day that we were once out of sight ofgame from dawn to dark. When we awoke the morning mist would scatterslowly and betray sleepy herds of antelope, that would rise leisurely, stand staring at us, suddenly become suspicious, and then gallop offuntil the whole plain was a panorama of wheeling herds, reminding oneof the cavalry maneuvers at Aldershot when the Guards regiments werepitted against the regular cavalry--all riding and no wits. 

Although we had to shoot enough meat for ourselves and men, we neveronce took advantage of those surprise parties in the early morning, preferring to stalk warier game at the end of a long march. The rainswere a thing of the past, and we seldom troubled to pitch tents butslept under the stars with a sensation that the universe was one vastplace of peace. 

Occasionally we reached an elevation from which we could look down andsee men toiling to build the railway, that already reached Nyanza afterthe unfinished fashion of work whose chief aim is making a showing. Profits, performances were secondary matters; that railway's onepurpose was to establish occupation of the head waters of the Nile andrefute the German claim to prior rights there. At irregular intervalstrains already went down to the lake, and passengers might ride onsuffrance; but we deluded ourselves with the belief that by marchingwe threw enemies off the scent. It was pure delusion, but extremelypleasant while it lasted. Where Africa is green and high she is alovely land to march across. 

Brown grew sober on the trip, as if approaching his chosen home gavehim a sense of responsibility. His own reason for preferring the marchto a ride in a construction train was simple:

"Every favor you ask o' gov'ment, boys, leaves one less to fall back onin a pinch! Ask not, and they'll forget some o' your peccadillos. Asktoo often, and one day when you really need a kindness you'll find theBank o' Good Hope bu'sted! And, believe me, boys, that 'ud be a hellof a predicament for a poor sufferin' settler to find himself in!"

The approach to Lumbwa was over steep hilly grass land, between forestsof cedar--perfect country, kept clean by a wind that smelt of fern andclover. 

"You can tell we're gettin' near my place, " said Brown, "by the numbero' leopards that's about. "

We had to keep our three pups close at heel all the time, and even atthat we lost two of them. One was taken from between Will's feet as hesat in camp cleaning his rifle. All he heard was the dog's yelp, andall he saw was a flash of yellow as the leopard made for the bouldersclose at hand. The other was taken out of my tent. I had tied it tothe tent pole, but the stout cord snapped like a hair and the darknessswallowed both leopard and its prey before I could as much as reach myrifle to get a shot. 

"Splendid country for farmin"' Brown remarked, "Splendid. Only youcan't keep sheep because the leopards take 'em. You can't keep hensfor the same reason. Nor yet cows, because the leopards get thecalves--leastways, that's to say unless you watch out awful cautious. Nor yet you can't keep pigeons, 'cause the leopards take them too. Isent to England for fancy pigeons--a dozen of em. Leopards got all butone, so I put him in the loft above my own house, where it seemed to me'tweren't possible for a leopard to get, supposin' he'd dared. Wentaway the next day for some shootin', an' lo and behold!--came back thatevenin' to discover my cook an' three others carryin' on as if KingdomCome had took place at last. Never heard or saw such a jamboree. Theblamed leopard was up in the loft; and had eaten the pigeon, feathersand all, but couldn't get out again!"

"What happened? Nothin'! I was that riled I didn't stop tothink--fixed a bayonet on the old Martini the gov'ment supplies tosettlers out of the depths of its wisdom an' generosity--climbed up bythe same route the leopard took--invaded him--an' skewered him wi' thebayonet in the dark! I wouldn't do it again for a kingdom--but I won'tbuy more pigeons either!"

"What do you raise on your farm, then--pigs?" we asked. 

"No, the leopards take pigs. "

"What then?"

"Well--as I was explainin' to that Greek Georges Coutlass atNairobi--there's a way of farmin' out your cattle among the nativesthat beats keepin' 'em yourself. The natives put 'em in the villagepen o' nights; an' besides, they know about the business. 

"All you need do is give 'em a heifer calf once in a while, and they'recontented. I keep a herd o' two hundred cows in a native village notfar from my place. The natural increase o' them will make mewell-to-do some day. "

The day before we reached Brown's tiny homestead we heard a lot ofshooting over the hill behind us. 

"That'll be railway men takin' a day off after leopards, " announcedBrown with the air of a man who can not be mistaken. 

Nevertheless, Fred and I went back to see, but could make out nothing. We lay on the top of the hill and watched for two or three hours, butalthough we heard rifle firing repeatedly we did not once catch sightof smoke or men. We marched into camp late that night with a feelingof foreboding that we could not explain but that troubled us bothequally. 

Once or twice in the night we heard firing again, as if somebody's campnot very far away was invaded by leopards, or perhaps lions. Yet atdawn there were no signs of tents. And when that night we arrived atBrown's homestead we seemed to have the whole world to ourselves. 

Brown's house was a tiny wooden affair with a thick grass roof. Itboasted a big fireplace at one end of the living-room, and a chimneythat Brown had built himself so cunningly that smoke could go up andout but no leopards could come down. 

He got very drunk that night to celebrate the home-coming, and stayedcompletely drunk for three days, we making use of his barn to give ourporters a good rest. By day we shot enough meat for the camp, and atnight we sat over the log fire, praying that Brown might sober up, Fredsinging songs to his infernal concertina, and all the natives who couldcrowd in the doorway listening to him with all their ears. Fred madevast headway in native favor, and learned a lot of two languages atonce. 

Every day we sent Kazimoto and another boy exploring among the Lumbwatribe, gathering information as to routes and villages, and it wasKazimoto who came running in breathless one night just as Brown was atlast sobering up, with the news that some Greeks had swooped down onBrown's cattle, had wounded two or three of the villagers who herdedthem, and had driven the whole herd away southward. 

That news sobered Brown completely. He took the bottle of whisky hehad just brought up from the cellar and replaced it unopened. 

"There's on'y one Greek in the world knew where my cattle were!" heannounced grimly. "There's on'y one Greek I ever talked to aboutcattle. Coutlass, by the great horn spoon! The blackguard swore hewas after you chaps--swore he didn't care nothing about me! What hedid to you was none o' my business, o' course--an' I figured anyway asyou could look out for yourselves! Not that I told the swine any o'your business, mind! Not me! I was so sure he was gunnin' for youthat I told him my own business to throw him off your track! And nowthe devil goes an' turns on me!"

He got down his rifle and began overhauling it, feverishly, yet with adeliberate care that was curious in a man so recently drunk. While hecleaned and oiled be gave orders to his own boys; and what with havingservants of our own and having to talk to them mostly in the nativetongue, we were able to understand pretty well the whole of what hesaid. 

"You're not going to start after them to-night?" Fred objected. But heand Will were also already overhauling weapons, for the second timethat evening. (It is religion with the true hunter never to eat supperuntil his rifle is cleaned and oiled. ) I got my own rifle down fromthe shelf over Brown's stone mantelpiece. 

"What d'you take me for?" demanded Brown. "There's one pace they'll goat, an' that's the fastest possible. There's one place they'll headfor, an' that's German East. They can't march faster than the cattle, an' the cattle'll have to eat. Maybe they'll drive 'em all through thefirst night, and on into the next day; but after that they'll have torest 'em an' graze 'em a while. That's when we'll begin to gain. Thetireder the cattle get, the faster we'll overhaul 'em, for we can eatwhile we're marchin', which the cattle can't! You chaps just stay herean' look after my farm till I come back!"

"You mean you propose to go alone after them?" asked Fred. 

"Why not? Whose cattle are they?"

He was actually disposed to argue the point. 

"Man alive, there'll be shootin'!" he insisted. "If they once get overthe border with all those cattle, the Germans'll never hand 'em overuntil every head o' cattle's gone. They'll fine 'em, an' arrest 'em, an' trick 'em, an' fine 'em again until the Germans own the herd alllegal an' proper--an' then they'll chase the Greeks back to BritishEast for punishment same as they always do. What good 'ud that be tome? No, no! Me--I'm going to catch 'em this side o' the line, or elsebu'st--an' I won't be too partic'lar where the line's drawn either!There's maybe a hundred miles to the south o' their line that theGermans don't patrol more often than once in a leap-year. If I catchthem Greeks in any o' that country, I'm going to kid myself deliberatethat it's British East, and act accordin'!"

At last we convinced him, although I don't remember how, for he wasobstinate from the aftermath of whisky, that we would no more permithim to go alone than he would consider abandoning his cattle. Then wehad to decide who should follow with our string of porters, for ifforced marching was in order it was obvious that we should faroutdistance our train. 

We invited Brown to follow with all the men while we three skirmishedahead, but he waxed so apoplectically blasphemous at the very thoughtof it that Fred assured him the proposal was intended for a joke. Thenwe argued among ourselves, coaxed, blarneyed, persuaded, and tried tobribe one another. Finally, all else failing, we tossed a coin for it, odd man out, and Fred lost. 

So Brown, Will Yerkes and I, with Kazimoto, our two personal servants, and six boys to carry one tent for the lot of us and food and cookingpots, started off just as the moon rose over the nearest cedars, andlaughed at Fred marshaling the sleepy porters by lamplight in the openspace between the house and barn. He was to follow as fast as theloaded porters could be made to travel, and with that concertina of histo spur them on there was little likelihood of losing touch. But therear-guard, when it comes to pursuing a retreating enemy, is ever theleast alluring place. 

"You've got all the luck, " he shouted. "Make the most of it or I'llnever gamble on the fall of a coin again!"

That pursuit was a journey of accidents, chapter after chapter of themin such close sequence that the whole was a nightmare without let-up orreason. I began the book by falling into an elephant pit. 

Before we had gone a mile in the dark we stood in doubt as to whetherthe most practicable trail went right or left. Brown set his ownindecision down frankly to the whisky that had muddled him. EvenKazimoto, who had passed that way three times, did not know forcertain. So I went forward to scout--stepped into the deep shadow ofsome jungle--trod on nothing--threw the other foot forward to savemyself--and fell downward into blackness for an eternity. 

I brought up at last unhurt in the trash and decaying vegetation at thebottom of a pit, and looked up to see the stars in a roughparallelogram above me, whose edge I guessed was more than thirty feetabove my head. I started to dig my way out, but the crumbling sidesfell in and threatened to bury me alive unless I kept still. So Ishouted until my lungs ached, but without result. I suppose the noisewent trumpeting upward out of the hole and away to the clouds and thestars. At any rate, Will and Brown swore afterward they never heard it. 

I was fifteen minutes in the hole that very likely had held many anelephant with his legs wedged together under him until the poor bruteperished of thirst, before it occurred to me to fire my rifle. I firedseveral shots when I did think of it; but we had agreed on no systemof signals, and instead of coming to find me at once, the other twocursed me for wasting time shooting at leopards in the dark instead ofscouting for the track. I used twenty cartridges before they came tosee what sort of battle I was waging, and with the last shot I nearlyblew Brown's helmet off as he stooped over the hole to look down in. 

Then there were more precious minutes wasted while someone cut a longpole for me to swarm up, and at the end of that time, when I stood onfirm ground at last and wiped the blood from hands and knees, we wereno wiser about the proper direction to take. 

The next accident was a little before midnight. Will Yerkes wasleading, I following, next the boys, and Brown bringing up the rear(for in those wild hills there is never a good track wide enough fortwo men to march abreast. Even the cattle proceed in single fileunless driven furiously. ) Will came on a leopard devouring its kill, afat buck, in the midst of the track in the moonlight, and the bruteresented the interruption of his meal. It slunk into the shadowsbefore Will could get a shot at it, and for the next two hours followedus, slinking from shadow to shadow, snarling and growling. It plainlyintended murder, but which of us was to be the victim, and when, therewas no means of guessing, so that the nerves of all of us were torturedevery time the brute approached. 

We wasted at least thirty cartridges on futile efforts to guess hiswhereabouts in velvet black shadows, and Brown went through all thestages from simple nervousness to fear, and then to frenzy, until wefeared he would shoot one of us in frantic determination to ring theleopard's knell. 

At last the brute did rush in, and of course where least expected. Heseized one of our porters by the shoulder, his claws doing more damagethan his teeth. I shot him by thrusting my rifle into his ear, andalthough that dropped him instantly his claws, in the dying spasm andby the weight of his fall, tore wounds in the man's arm eighteen ortwenty inches long. 

One of the things we did have with us was bandages. But it took timeto attend to the man's wounds properly by lamp and moonlight, and afterthat he could neither march fast, nor was there anywhere to leave him. 

So just before dawn Fred came up with us, and was more pleased at ourdiscomfiture than sympathetic. He told off two men to carry the injuredporter to a mission station more than a day's march away, andredistributed the loads. Then we went on again, once more placing rock, hill, and cedar forest between us and our supply column, this time withFred's counsel ringing in our ears. 

"Better send for nursemaids and perambulators, and have yourselvespushed!"

At noon that day we found the track of the driven cattle, and soonafter that came on the half-devoured carcass of a heifer that theGreeks had shot, presumably because it could not march, and perhapswith the added reason that freshly-killed meat would draw off leopardsand hyenas and provide peace for a few miles. 

Once on the trail it would not have been easy to lose it, except in thedark, for the Greek marauders were bent on speed and the driven cattlehad smashed down the undergrowth in addition to leaving deephoof-prints at every water-course. 

The first suspicion that dawned on me of something more than merefreebooting on the part of Coutlass, was due to the discovery ofhoof-prints of either mules or horses. I was marching alone inadvance, and came on them beside a stream that was only apparentlyfordable in that one place. After making sure of what they were Ihalted to let Will and Brown catch up. 

"Did Coutlass have money enough to buy mules for himself and gang?"wondered Will. 

"That robber?" snorted Brown. "When Lady Saffren Waldon refused himtobacco money in the hotel he tried to borrow from me!"

"Where could be steal mules?" Will asked. 

"Nowhere. Aren't any!"

"Horses' then?"

"He'd never take horses. They'd die. "

"What are they riding, then?"

"Unless he stole trained zebras from the gov'ment farm at Naivasha, "said Brown, "an' they're difficulter to ride 'an a greasy pole up-endedon a earthquake, he must ha' bought mules from the one man who has anyto sell. And he lives t'other side o' Nairobi. There are none betweenthere and here--none whatever. Zachariah Korn--him who owns mules--istoo wide awake to be stolen from. He bought 'em, you take it from me, and paid twice what they were worth into the bargain. "

"Then he bought them with her money!" said Will. 

"If not Schillingschen's, " said I. 

"Or the Sultan of Zanzibar's" said Will, "or the German government's. "

"But why? Why should she, or they, conspire at great expense and riskto steal Brown's cattle?"

"They'll figure, " said Will, "that Brown is helping us, and therefore, Brown is an enemy. Prob'ly they surmise Brown is in league with us toshow us a short cut to what we're after. If that's how they work itout, then they wouldn't need think much to conclude that putting Brownon the blink would hoodoo us. Maybe they allow that that much bad luckto begin with would unsettle Brown's friendly feelings for us. Anyway--somebody bought the mules--somebody stole the cattle--cattleare somewhere ahead. Let's hurry forward and see!"

We did hurry, but made disgustingly poor time. Once a dozen buffalostampeded our tiny column. Our five porters dropped their loads, andthe biggest old bull mistook our only tent for our captain's dead bodyand proceeded to play ball with it, tossing it and tearing it to piecesuntil at last Will got a chance for a shoulder shot and drilled himneatly. Two other bulls took to fighting in the midst of theexcitement and we got both of them. Then the rest trotted off; so wepacked the horns of the dead ones on the head of our free porter (forthe tent he had carried was now utterly no use) and hastened on. 

Once, in trying to make a cut that should have saved us ten or fifteenmiles between two rivers, we fell shoulder-deep into a bog and onlyescaped after an hour's struggle during which we all but lost twoporters. We had to retrace our steps and follow the Greek's route, only to have the mortification of seeing Fred and our column ofsupplies coming over the top of a rise not eight miles behind us. 

Determined not to be overtaken by him a second time and treated toadvice about nursemaids, we dispensed with sleep altogether for thatnight, and nearly got drowned at the second river. 

We found a native who owned a thing he called a mtungi--a near-canoe, burned out of a tree-trunk. He assured us the ford was very winding(he drew a wiggly finger-mark in the mud by way of illustration) butthat his boat would hold twice our number, and that be could take usover easily in the dark. In fact he swore he had ferried twice ournumber over on darker nights more than twenty or thirty times. He alsosaid that he had taken the cattle over by the ford early that morning, and then had crossed over in the boat with two Greeks and a bwana Goa. He showed us the brass wire and beads they gave him in proof of thatstatement, and we began to put some faith in his tale. 

So we all piled into his crazy boat with our belongings, and bepromptly lost the way amid the twelve-foot grass-papyrus mostly--thatdivided the river into narrow streams and afforded protection to themost savagely hungry mosquitoes in the world. Our faces and hands werewet with blood in less than two minutes. 

Presently, instead of finding bottom for his pole, he pushed us intodeep water. The grass disappeared, and a ripple on the water lippingdangerously within three inches of our uneven gunwale proved that wewere more or less in the main stream. We had enjoyed that sensationfor about a minute, and were headed toward where we supposed theopposite bank must be, when a hippo in a hurry to breathe blew justbeside us--saw, smelt, or heard us (it was all one to him)--and divedagain. 

I suppose in order to get his head down fast enough he shoved his rumpup, and his great fat back made a wave that ended that voyage abruptly. Our three inches of broadside vanished. The canoe rocked violently, filled, turned over, and floated wrong side up. 

"All the same, " laughed Will, spluttering and spitting dirty water, "here's where the crocks get fooled! They don't eat me for supper!"

He was first on top of the overturned boat, and dragged me up afterhim. Together we hauled up Brown, who could not swim but wasbombastically furious and unafraid; and the three of us pulled out theporters and the fatuous boat's owner. The pole was floating near by, and I swam down-stream and fetched it. When they had dragged me backon to the wreck the moon came out, and we saw the far bank hazilythrough mist and papyrus. 

The boat floated far more steadily wrong side up, perhaps because wehad lashed all our loads in place and they acted as ballast. Will tookthe pole and acted the part of Charon, our proper pilot contentinghimself with perching on the rear end lamenting the ill-fortune noisilyuntil Kazimoto struck him and threatened to throw him back into thewater. , "They don't want a fool like you in the other world, " he assured him. "You will die of old age!"

The papyrus inshore was high enough to screen the moon from us, and wehad to hunt a passage through it in pitch darkness. Then, having foundthe muddy bank at last (and more trillions of mosquitoes) we had todrag the overturned boat out high and dry to rescue our belongings. And that was ticklish work, because most of the crocodiles, andpractically all the largest ones, spend the night alongshore. 

Matches were wet. We had no means of making a flare to frighten themonsters away. We simply had to "chance it" as cheerfully and swiftlyas we could, and at the end of a half-hour's slimy toil we carried ourmuddied loads to the nearest high ground and settled down there for thenight. 

It would be mad exaggeration to say we camped. Wet to the skin--dirtyto the verge of feeling suicidal--bitten by insects until the blood randown from us--lost (for we bad no notion where the end of the fordmight be)--at the mercy of any prowling beasts that might discover us(for our rifle locks were fouled with mud)--we sat with chatteringteeth and waited for the morning. 

When the sun rose we found a village less than four hundred yards awayand sent the boys down to it to unpack the loads and spread everythingin the sun to dry, while we went down to the river again and washed ourrifles. Then we dried and oiled them, and without a word of bargain orexplanation, invaded the cleanest looking hut, lay down on the stampedclay floor, and slept. It was only clean-looking, that hut. It housedmore myraids of fleas than the air outside supported "skeeters"; but weslept, unconscious of them all. 

At four that afternoon we had the mortification of being roused byFred's voice, and the dumping of loads as his sixty porters droppedtheir burdens inside the village stockade. He had scorned the ferryand crossed the ford on foot, making a prodigious splash to keepcrocodiles away, and was as full of life and fun as a schoolboy onvacation. 

"Wake up, you vorloopers!" he shouted. "Wake up! Shake off the fleasand come, and I'll show you something. "

He had already had the tale of our night's misfortune in detail fromthe owner of the only canoe (who claimed double pay on the ground thatwe had lost no loads in spite of over-turning. "The last really whiteman who crossed lost all his loads!" he explained. ) . 

"Come and I'll show you something you never saw before, youscouts!--you advance guard!--you line of skirmishers!"

Will hurled a lump of earth at him, and chased him to the river, wherethey wrestled, trying to throw each other in, until both werebreathless. Then, when neither could make another effort:

"Look!" gasped Fred. 

There was an island in mid-stream below where we must have crossed. The stream was straight, and from where we stood we could see more thanhalf a mile of alluvial mud with an arm of the river on either side. The mud was white, not black--so white that it dazzled the eyes to lookat it. 

"Know what it is?" Fred panted. 

We did not know, and it was no use guessing. It looked like burnedlime, or else the secretions of about a billion birds; and there wereno birds to speak of. 

"Crocodile eggs!" said Fred. 

We did not believe that. Even Brown did not believe it. There was notime to spare, but Brown out of curiosity agreed, so we took the absurdcanoe and poled down to investigate. As we came nearer the solid whitebroke up into a myriad dots, and Fred's tale stood confirmed. 

They were as long as two hens' eggs laid end to end, or longer. Theylay in the sun in batches in every stage of incubation, and from almostevery batch there were little crocodiles emerging, that made straightfor the water. What worse monster preyed on them to keep their numbersdown, or what disease took care of their prolixity we could not guess. Perhaps they ate one another, or just died of hunger. The owner of theboat vowed there were no fish left in the river, and that thecrocodiles did not eat hippo unless it were first dead. 

We took another tent from among Fred's loads, changed two of ourporters for stronger ones, and went forward that evening; for it beganto be obvious that the speed had been telling on the cattle. We passedtwo more dead heifers within a few miles of the river bank, and therewere other signs that for all our long sleep we were gaining on them. 

Perhaps the Greeks thought they had shaken off pursuit. Judging by thecompass they were headed for the shore of Victoria Nyanza, where thegrazing would be better, food for men would be purchaseable, and thenumber of villages closely spaced would make the task of night-herdingvastly easier. There isn't a village in that part of Africa that isnot proud to be a host to anybody's cattle, if only because theownership of so much living wealth casts glory on all who come incontact with it. 

There was no means of telling whether or not we were over the Germanborder. The boundary line had not been surveyed yet, and on the mapthe part where we were was set down as "unexplored, " although that wasscarcely accurate; the route was well enough known to Greeks andArabs, and other had characters bent on smuggling or in some other waydefeating the ends of justice. 

We marched that night until midnight, slept until dawn, and were offagain. At noon we reached rising ground, and Kazimoto ran ahead of usto the summit. We saw him standing at gaze for three or four minuteswith one hand shading his eyes before he came scampering back, asexcited as if his own fortune were in the balance. 

"Hooko-chini!" he shouted. "Hooko-chini--mba-a-a-li sana!"--(They'redown below there, very far away!)

We hurried up-hill, but for many minutes could see nothing except aplain of waving grass higher than a man's head and almost asimpenetrable as bamboo-country that carried small hope in it for man orbeast, that would be a holocaust in the dry season when the heat setfire to the grass, and was an insect-haunted marsh at most other times. However, path across it there must be, for the Greeks had drivenBrown's cattle that way that very morning, and Kazimoto swore he couldsee them in the distance, although Brown, and Will, and I--all threekeen-sighted--could see nothing whatever but immeasurable, worthlesswaving grass. 

At last I detected a movement near the horizon that did not synchronizewith the wind-blown motion of the rest. I pointed it out to theothers, and after a few minutes we agreed that it moved against thewind. 

"They're hurrying again, " said Brown, peering under both hands. "There's no feed for cattle on all this plain. They're racing to getto short grass before the cattle all die. Come on--let's hurry after'em!"

For the second time on that trip we essayed a short cut, making asstraight as a bee would fly for the point on the horizon where we knewthe Greeks to be. And for the second time we fell into a bog, nearlylosing our lives in it. We had to pull one another out, using even ourprecious rifles as supports in the yielding mud, and then spendingequally precious time in cleaning locks and sights again. 

After that we hunted for the cattle trail and followed that closely;and that was not so easy as it reads, because the trampled grass hadrisen again, and cattle and mounted men can cross easily ground thatdelays men on foot. 

The heat was that of an oven. The water--what there was of it in theholes and swampy places--stank, and tasted acrid. The flies seemed togreet us as their only prospect of food that year. The monotony ofhurrying through grass-stems that cut off all view and only showed thesky through a waving curtain overhead was more nerve-trying than thephysical weariness and thirst. 

We slept a night in that grass, burning some of it for a smudge to keepmosquitoes at bay, and an hour after dawn, reaching rising groundagain, realized that we had our quarry within reach at last. 

They were out in the open on short good grazing. The Greeks' tent waspitched. We could see their mules, like brown insects, tied under atree, and the cattle dotted here and there, some lying down, somefeeding. 

"At last!" said Brown. "Boys, they're our meat! There's a tree tohang the Greeks and the Goa to! When we've done that, if you'll allcome back with me I'll send to Nairobi for an extra jar of Irishwhisky, and we'll have a spree at Lumbwa that'll make the fall of Romesound like a Sunday-school picnic! We're in German territory now, allright. There's not a white man for a hundred miles in anydirection--except your friend that's coming along behind. There'snobody to carry tales or prevent! I'm no savage. I'm no degenerate. I don't hold with too much of anything, but--"

"There'll be no dirty work, if that's what you mean, " said Will quietly. 

Brown stared hard at him. 

"D'you mean you'll object to hanging 'em?"

"Not in the least. We hang or shoot cattle thieves in the States. Isaid there'll be no dirty work, that's all. "

"Shall we rest a while, and come on them fresh in the morning?" Iproposed. 

"Forward!" snorted Brown. "Why d'you want to wait?"

"Forward it is!" agreed Will. "When we get a bit closer we'll stop andhold council of war. "

"One minute!" said I. "Tell me what that is?"

I had been searching the whole countryside, looking for some means ofstealing on the marauders unawares and finding none. They had chosentheir camping place very wisely from the point of view of men unwillingto be taken by surprise. Far away over to our right, appearing anddisappearing as I watched them, were a number of tiny black dots insort of wide half-moon formation, and a larger number of rather largerdots contained within the semicircle. 

"Cattle!" exploded Brown. 

"And men!" added Will. 

"Black men!" said I. "Black men with spears!"

"Masai!" said Kazimoto excitedly. He had far the keenest eyes of allof us. 

We were silent for several minutes. The veriest stranger in that landknows about the feats and bravery of the Masai, who alone of all tribesdid not fear the Arabs, and who terrorized a quarter of a continentbefore the British came and broke their power. 

"Mbaia cabisa!" muttered Kazimoto, meaning that the development wasvery bad indeed. And he had right to know

He explained it was a raid. The Masai, in accordance with time-honoredcustom, had come from British East to raid the lake-shore villages ofGerman territory, and were driving back the plundered cattle. None candrive cattle as Masai can. They can take leg-weary beasts by the tailand make them gallop, one beast encouraging the next until they all golike the wind. For food they drink hot blood, opening a vein in abeast's neck and closing it again when they have had their fill. Theironly luggage is a spear. Their only speed-limit the maximum the cattlecan be stung to. On a raid three hundred and sixty miles in six daysis an ordinary rate of traveling. 

Just now they did not seem in much hurry. They had probably butcheredthe fighting men of all the villages in their rear, and were wellinformed as to the disposition of the nearest German forces. Therewere probably no Germans within a hundred miles. There was notelegraph in all those parts. To notify Muanza by runner and Bagamoyoon the coast from there by wire would take several days. Then Bagamoyowould have to wire the station at Kilimanjaro, and there was no earthlychance of Germans intercepting them before they could reach BritishEast. 

Nor was there any treaty provision between British and German colonialgovernments for handing over raiders. The Germans had refused to makeany such agreement for reasons best known to themselves. The fact thatthey were far the heaviest losers by the lack of reciprocal policearrangements was due to the fact that most of the Masai lived inBritish East. The Masai would have raided across either border withsupreme indifference. 

"Masai not talking. Masai using spear and kill!" remarked Kazimoto. 

"One good thing our gov'ment's done, " said Brown. "Just one. It haskept those rascals from owning rifles! But lordy! They've got spearsthat give a man the creeps to see!"

He began looking to his rifle. So did Will and I. 

"Now this here is my fight, " he explained. "Them's my cattle. They'reall the wealth I own in the world. If I lose 'em I'm minded to dieanyhow. There's nothing in life for a drunkard like me with all hismoney gone and nothing to do but take a mean white's job. You chapsjust wait here and watch while I 'tend to my own affairs. "

"Exactly!" Will answered dryly. "I've a hundred rounds in my pockets. That ought to be enough. "

While we made ready, leaving our loads and porters in a safe place andgiving the boys orders, I saw two things happen. First, the Masaibecame aware of the little Greek encampment and the two hundred head ofcattle waiting at their mercy; and second, the Greeks grew aware ofthe Masai. 

The Greeks had boys with them; I saw at least half a dozen goscattering to round up the cattle. The tents began to come down, and Isaw three figures that might be the Greeks and the Goanese holding aconsultation near the tree. 

"And now, " remarked Will, "I begin to see the humor in this comedy. Which are we--allies of the Greeks or of the Masai? Are we to help theGreeks get away with Brown's cattle, or help the Masai steal 'em fromthe Greeks? Are your cattle all branded, Brown?"

"You blooming well bet they are!"

"Masai know enough to alter a brand?"

"Never heard o' their doing it. "

"Then if the Masai get away with them to British East, if you can find'em you can claim 'em, eh?"

"Claim 'em in court wi' the whole blooming tribe o' Masai--more'n aquarter of a million of 'em--all on hand to swear they bought 'em fromme; an' the British gov'ment takin' sides with the black men, as italways does? Oh, yes! It sounds easy, that does!"

"But if the Greeks get away with 'em, " argued Will, "you've no chanceof recovering at all. "

"I'll not take sides with Masai--even against Greeks!" Brown answeredgrimly, and Will laughed. 

"If we attack the Greeks first, " I said, "perhaps they'll run. We'renearer to them than the Masai are. The Masai, will have to corraltheir own cattle before they can leave them to raid a new lot. We canopen fire at long range begin with. If that scares the Greeks away, then we can, round up Brown's cattle and drive them back northward. Wemay possibly escape with them too quickly for the Masai to think itworth while to follow. "

Brown laughed cynically. 

"We can try it, " he said. "An' if the Greeks don't run pretty quickthey'll never run again--I'll warrant that!"

Nobody had a better plan to propose, so we emptied our pockets of allbut fifty rounds of ammunition each, and gave the rest to Kazimoto tocarry, with orders to keep in hiding and watch, and run with cartridgesto whoever should first need them. 

Then, because instead of corraling their cattle the Masai were alreadydividing themselves into two parties, one of which drove the cattleforward and the other diverged to study the attack, we ducked downunder a ridge and ran toward the Greeks. The sooner we could get thefirst stage of the fighting off our hands the better. 

It proved a long way--far longer than I expected, and the going wasrougher. Moreover, the Greeks' boys were losing no time about roundingup the cattle. By the time they were ready to make a move we werestill more than a mile away, and out of breath. 

"If they go south, " panted Brown, throwing himself down by a clump ofgrass to gasp for his third or fourth wind, "the Masai'll catch 'emsure, an' we'll be out o' the running! Lord send they head 'em backtoward British East!"

He was in much the worst physical condition because of the whisky, buthis wits were working well enough. The Greeks on the other hand seemedundecided and appeared to be arguing. Then Brown's prayer wasanswered. The Greeks' boys decided the matter for them by stampedingthe herd northward toward us. They did not come fast. They were lame, and bone-weary from hard driving, but they knew the way home again andmade a bee line. Within a minute they were spread fan-wise between usand the Greeks, making a screen we could not shoot through. 

"Scatter to right and left!" Brown shouted. "Get round the wings!"

But what was the use? He was in the center, and short-winded. Iclimbed on an ant-hill. 

"The Greeks are on the run!" I said. "They are headed southward!They've got their boys together, and have abandoned the cattle!They're off with their tent and belongings due south!"

"The cowards!" swore Brown, with such disappointment that Will and Ilaughed. 

"Laugh all you like!" he said. "I've a long job on my hands! I'llhave revenge on 'em if it takes the rest o' my life! I'll follow 'emto hell-and-gone!"

"Meanwhile, " I said, still standing on the ant-hill, "the Masai arefollowing the cattle! They're smoking this way in two single columnsof about twenty spears in each. The remainder are driving their owncattle about due eastward so as to be out of the way of trouble. "

"All right, " said Brown, growing suddenly cheerful again. "Then it'llbe a rear-guard action. Let the cattle through, and open fire behind'em! Send that Kazimoto o' yours to warn our boys to round 'em up anddrive 'em slow and steady northward!"

Kazimoto ran back and gave the necessary orders. He lost no time aboutit, but returned panting, and lay down in a hollow behind us withcartridges in either fist and a grin on his face that would have donecredit to a circus clown. I never, anywhere, saw any one more pleasedthan Kazimoto at the prospect of a fight. 

We let the cattle through and lay hidden, waiting for the raiders. They were in full war dress, which is to say as nearly naked aspossible except for their spears, a leg ornament made from the hair ofthe colobus monkey, a leather apron hung on just as suited theindividual wearer's fancy, a great shield, and an enormousostrich-feather head-dress. They seemed in no hurry, for they probablyguessed that the cattle would stop to graze again when the first scarewas over; yet they came along as smoke comes, swiftly and easily, making no noise. 

Suddenly those in the lead caught sight of our boys getting behind thecattle to herd them northward. They halted to holdconsultation--apparently decided that they had only unarmed natives todeal with--and came on again, faster than before. 

"Better open fire now!" said Brown, when they were still a quarter of amile away. 

"Wait till you can see their eyes!" Will advised. "An unexpectedvolley at close quarters will do more havoc than hours of long-rangeshooting. 

"This ain't a long range!" Brown objected. "As for unexpected--justwatch me startle 'em! My sight's fixed at four hundred. Watch!"

He fired--we wished he had not. The leading Masai of the right-handcolumn jerked his head sidewise as the whistling bullet passed, andthen there was nothing for it but to follow his lead and blaze away forall we were worth. If Brown had been willing to accept Will's advicethere is nothing more likely than that the close-quarter surprise wouldhave won the day for us. We would have done much more execution withthree volleys at ten-yard range. As it was, we all missed with ourfinest shots, and the Masai took heart and charged in open order. 

The worst of it was that, although we dropped several of them, now theothers had a chance to discover there were only three of us. Theirleader shouted. The right-hand column continued to attack, but changedits tactics. The left-hand party made a circuit at top speed, outflanked us, and pursued the cattle. 

Supposing my count was right, we had laid out, either wounded or dead, seven of the crowd attacking us. This left perhaps fourteen againstus, to be dealt with before the others could come back with the cattleand take us in the rear. 

Will brought another man down; I saw the blood splash on his foreheadas the bullet drilled the skull cleanly. Then one man shouted and theyall lay prone, beginning to crawl toward us with their shields heldbefore, not as protection against bullets (for as that they wereutterly worthless) but as cover that made their exact position merestguesswork. 

I fell back and took position on the ant-hill from which I had firstseen them, thus making our position triangular and giving myself achance to protect the other two should they feel forced to retire. Theextra height also gave me a distinct advantage, for I could see thelegs of the Masai over the tops of their shields, and was able to woundmore than one of them so severely that they crawled to the rear. 

But the rest came on. Kazimoto began to be busy supplying cartridges. In that first real pinch we were in he certainly lived up to allCourtney had said of him, for without the stimulus of his propermaster's eye he neither flinched nor faltered, but crawled from one tothe other, dividing the spare rounds equally. 

The Masai began to attempt to outflank us, but my position on theant-hill to the rear made that impossible; they found themselves facedby a side of the triangle from whichever side they attacked. But inturning to keep an eye on the flank I became aware of a greater danger. The cattle were coming back. That meant that the other Masai werecoming, too, and that in a few moments we were likely to beoverwhelmed. I shouted to Will and Brown, but either they did not hearme, or did not have time to answer. 

I fired half a dozen shots, and then distinctly heard the crack of arifle from beyond the cattle. That gave matters the worst turn yet. If one of the raiders had a rifle, then unless I could spot him at onceand put him out of action our cause was likely lost. I stood up tolook for him and heard a wild cheer, followed by three more shots inquick succession. Then at last I saw Fred Oakes running along adepression in the ground, followed at a considerable distance by theadvance-guard of his porters. He was running, and then kneeling tofire--running, and kneeling again. And he was not wasting ammunition. He was much the best shot of us all, now that Monty was absent. 

The terrified cattle stampeded past us, too wild to be cheeked by anynoise. Seeing them, and sure now of their booty, the party attackingus hauled off and took to their heels. Will and Brown were forspeeding them with bullets in the rear, but I yelled again, and thistime made myself heard. Those who had got behind the cattle and weredriving them were coming on with spears and shields raised to slay usin passing. The other two joined me, and we stood on the ant-hillthree abreast. They charged us--seven or eight of them. Three bit thedust, but the rest came on, and if it had not been for two swift shotsfrom Fred's rifle in the very nick of time we should have all been deadmen. 

As it was, one seized me by the knees and we went over together, rolling down the ant-hill, he slashing at me with his greatbroad-bladed spear, I ahold of his wrist with one hand, and with theother fist belaboring him in the face. He was stronger thanI--greasier--sweatier--harder to hold. He slipped from under me, rolled on top, wrenched his wrist free, and in another second grinnedin my face as, with both knees in my stomach, be raised the spear tokill. I shut my eyes. I had not another breath left, nor an effort inme, I thought I would deny him the pleasure of watching my death agony. But I could not keep my eyes shut. Opening them to see why he did notstrike, I saw Kazimoto with my rifle in both hands swing for his skullwith the full weight of the butt and all his strength. Kazimotogrunted. The Masai half turned his head at the sound. The butt hithome--broke off--and my face and breast were deluged with blood andbrains. 

When I had wiped off that mess with Kazimoto's help I saw Fred and Willand Brown pursuing the retreating Masai, kneeling to shoot every fewyards, at every other shot or so bringing down a victim, but beingrapidly out-distanced. Cattle are all the Masai care about. They hadthe cattle. They had hold of tails and were making the whole herdscamper due east, where they no doubt knew of a trail not in maps. They made no attempt to defend themselves--left their dead lying--andran. I saw two or three wounded ones riding on cows, and no doubt someof those who ran holding to the cows' tails were wounded, too. 

I was useless now, as far as fighting was concerned, for the butt of myrifle was broken clean off at the grip, but I ran on, and heard Brownshout:"Shoot cattle! Don't let the brutes get away with them all!"

He was shooting cows himself when I came up, but it was Fred whostopped him. 

"Never mind that, old man. We'll follow 'em up! Our time's our own. We'll get your cattle back, never fear. Dead ones are no use. "

Brown stopped shooting and began to blubber. Whisky had not left himmanhood enough to see his whole available resources carried away beforehis eyes, and he broke down as utterly as any child. It was neitheragreeable nor decent to watch, and I turned away. I was feeling sickmyself from the pressure of the Masai's knees in my stomach. That, andthe sun, and the long march, and hunger (for we had not stopped to eata meal that day) combined in argument, and I hunted about for a softplace and a little shade. It happened that Fred Oakes was watching me, although I did not know it. He suspected sunstroke. 

I saw a clump of rushes that gave shade enough. I could crush downsome, and lie on those. I hurried, for I was feeling deathly sick now. As I reached the grass my knees began giving under me. I staggered, but did not quite fall. 

That, and Fred's watchfulness, saved my life; for at the moment thatmy head and shoulders gave the sudden forward lurch, a wounded Masaijumped out of the rushes and drove with his spear at my breast. Theblade passed down my back and split my jacket. 

He sprang back, and made another lunge at me, but Fred's rifle barkedat the same second and he fell over sidewise, driving the spear into myleg in his death spasm. 

The twenty minutes following that are the worst in memory. Kazimotobroke the gruesome news that the spear-blade was almost surelypoisoned--dipped in gangrene. The Masai are no believers in woundedenemies, or mercy on the battlefield. 

We doubted the assertion for a while--I especially, for none but ahypochondriac would care to admit without proof that gangrene had beenforced into his system. Kazimoto grew indignant, and offered to provethe truth of his claim on some animal. But there was no living animalin sight on which to prove it. We asked him how long gangrene, injected in that way, took to kill a man. 

"Very few minutes!" he answered. 

Then it occurred that none of us knew what to do. Kazimoto announcedthat he knew, and offered to make good at once if given permission. Hedemanded permission again and again from each one of us, making meespecially repeat my words. Then be gathered stems of grass a third ofan inch thick from the bed of the tiny watercourse, and proceeded tomake a tiny fire, talking in a hurry as he did it to several of Fred'sstring of porters, who were now arriving on the scene. 

While I watched with a sort of tortured interest what he was doing atthe fire, five of the largest boys with whom be had been speakingrushed me from behind, and before I could struggle, or even swear, hadme pinned out on my back on the ground. One sat on my head; one on mypoor bruised stomach; the others held wrists and ankles in such waythat I could not break free, nor even kick much, however hard I tried. 

Then Kazimoto came with glowing ends of grass from the fire, blowing onthem to keep them cherry-red, and inserted one after another into theopen spear-wound. I could not cry out, because of the man sitting onmy face, but I could bite. And to the everlasting glory of theman--Ali bin Yema, his name was--be it written that he neither spokenor moved a muscle, although my front teeth met in his flesh. 

I do not know how long the process lasted, or how many times Kazimotoreturned to the fire for more of his sizzling sticks, for I fainted;and when I came round the agony was still too intense to permitinterest in anything but agony. They had my leg bandaged, how and withwhat I neither knew nor cared. And it was evident that unless theychose to leave me in camp where I was they would have to abandon allthought of pursuing Masai for the present. Even Brown saw the force ofthat, and he was the first to refuse flatly to leave me there. 

For a while they hunted through the grass for more wounded men, butfound none. There must have been several, but they probably feared thesort of mercy from us that they habitually gave to their own enemies, and crawled away--in all likelihood to die of thirst and hunger, unlesssome beast of prey should smell them out and make an earlier end. 

Then there was consultation. It was decided a doctor for me was themost urgent need; that Muanza, the largest German station on VictoriaNyanza, was probably as near as anywhere, and that German East beingour immediate destination anyway, the best course to take was forward, roughly south by west. So I was slung in a blanket on a tent-pole, andwe started, I swearing like a pirate every time a boy stumbled andjolted me. (There is something in the nature of a burn that makes badlanguage feel like singing hymns. )

Our troubles were not all over, for we passed through a country wherebuck were fairly plentiful, and that meant lions. They did no damage, but they kept us awake; and one night near the first village we cameto, where our porters all quartered themselves with the villagers forsake of the change from their crowded tents, the fires that we madewent out, and five lions (we counted their foot-prints afterward) cameand sniffed around the pegs of the tent in which Fred and I lay, welying still and shamming dead. To have lifted a rifle in the darknessand tried to shoot would have been suicide. 

Then there were trees we passed among--baobabs, whose youngest tendrilsswung to and fro in the evening breeze like snakes head-downward. Andtaking advantage of that natural provision, twenty-foot pythons swungamong them, in coloring and marking aping the habit of the tree. Oneof them knocked Fred's helmet off as he marched beside me. They areeasy to kill. He shot it, and it dropped like a stone, three hundredpounds or more, but the sweat ran down Fred's face for half an hourafterward. 

(Since then I have seen pythons kill their prey a score of times. Inever once saw one kill by crushing. The end of their nose is as hardas iron, and they strike a terrific blow with that, so swift that theeye can not follow it. Then, having killed by striking, they crawlaround their prey and crush it into shape for swallowing. )

But the worst of the journey was the wayside villages--dirty beyondbelief, governed in a crude way by a headman whom the Germans honoredwith the title of sultani. These wayside beggars (for they were nobetter)--destitute paupers, taxed until their wits failed them in theeffort to scrape together surplus enough out of which to pay--weresupplied with a mockery of a crown apiece, a thing of brass andimitation plush that they wore in the presence of strangers. To add tothe irony of that, the law of the land permitted any white man passingthrough to beat them, with as many as twenty-five lashes, if theyfailed to do his bidding. 

On arriving at such a village, the first thing we did was to ask formilk. If they had any they brought it, not daring to refuse for fearlest a German sergeant-major should be sent along to wreak vengeancelater. But it was always too dirty to drink. 

That ceremony over, the headman retired and the village sick werebrought for our inspection. Gruesome sores, running ulcers, wounds andcrippled limbs were stripped and exposed to our most reluctant gaze. There was little we could do for them. Our own supply of medicines andbandages was almost too small for our own needs to begin with. By thetime we passed three villages we scarcely had enough lint and linimentleft to take care of my wound; but even that scant supply we cut inhalf for a particularly bad case. 

"Don't the Germans do anything for you?" we demanded, over and overagain. 

The answer was always the same. 

"Germani mbaia!" (The Germans are bad!)

They were lifeless--listless--tamed until neither ambition nor couragewas left. When their cattle had brought forth young and it looked asif there might be some profit at last, the Masai came and raided them, taking away all but the very old ones and the youngest calves. TheGermans, they said, taxed them and took their weapons away, but gavethem no protection. 

At one place we passed a rifle, lying all rusted by the track. At thenext village we asked about it. They told us that a German nativesoldier had deserted six months before and had thrown his rifle away. Since that day no one had dared touch it, and they begged us to sendback and lay it where we found it, lest the Germans come and punishthem for touching it. So we did that, to oblige them, and they weregrateful to the extent of offering us one of their only two male sheep. 

I forget now for how many days we traveled across that sad andsaddening land, Fred always cheerful in spite of everything, Will moreangry at each village with its dirt and sores, Brown moaning alwaysabout his lovely herd of cows, and I groaning oftener than not. 

My leg grew no better, what with jolting and our ignorance of how totreat it. Sometimes, in efforts to obtain relief, I borrowed a cow atone village and rode it to the next; but a cow is a poor mount andtakes as a rule unkindly to the business. Now and then I tried to walkfor a while, on crutches that Fred made for me; but most of the time Iwas carried in a blanket that grew hotter and more comfortless as daydragged after day. 

At last, however, we topped a low rise and saw Muanza lying on thelake-shore, with the great island of Ukereweto the northward in thedistance. From where we first glimpsed it it was a tidy, tree-shaded, pleasant-looking place, with a square fort, and a big house for thecommandant on a rise overlooking the town. 

"Now we'll wire Monty at last!" said Fred. 

"Now we'll shave and wash and write letters!" said Will. 

"Now at last for a doctor!" said I. 

But Brown said nothing, and Kazimoto wore a look of anxious discontent. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE DARKNESS COMPREHENDED IT NOT

 When Kenia's peak glows gold and rose A dawn breeze whispers to the plain With breath cooled sweet by mountain snows - "The darkness soon shall come again!" Stirs then the sleepless, lean Masai And stands o'er plain and peak at gaze Resentful of the bright'ning sky, Impatient of the white man's days. 

Oh dark nights, when the charcoal glowed and falling hammers rang!When fundis* forged the spear-blades, and the warriors danced andsang!When the marriageable spearmen gathered, calling each to eachTelling over proverbs that the tribal wisemen teach, Brother promising blood-brother partnership in weal and woe -Nightlong stories of the runners come from spying on the foe -Nights of boasting by the thorn-fire of the coming tale of slain -Oh the times before the English! When will those times come again!

Oh the days and nights of raiding, when the feathered spearmen strodeWith the hide shields on their forearms, and the wild Nyanza roadGrew blue with smoking villages, grew red with flaring roofs, Grew noisy with the shouting and the thunder of the hoofsAs we drove the plundered cattle--when we burned the night withhaste -When we leapt at dawn from ambush--when we laid the shambas waste!

----------------*Fundis--skilled workman. ----------------

Oh the new spears dipped in life-blood as the women shrieked invain!Oh the days before the English! When will those days come again!Oh the homeward road in triumph with the plunder borne alongOn the heads of taken women! Oh the daughter and the song!Oh the tusks of yellow ivory--the frasilas of beads -And, best of all, the heifers that the marriageable needs!The yells when village eyes at last our sky-line feathers seeAnd the maidens run to count how many marriages shall be -Ten heifers to a maiden (and the chief's girl stands for twain)--Oh the days before the English! When will those days come again!

Now the fat herds grow in number, and the old are rich in trade, Now the grass grows green and heavy where the six-foot spears weremade. Now the young men walk to market, and the wives have beads and wire -Brass and iron--glass and cowrie--past the limit of desire. There is peace from lake to mountain, and the very zebra breedWhere a law says none may hurt them (and the wise are they who heed!)Yea--the peace lies on the country as our herds oerspread the plain -But the days before the English--when shall those days come again!

 When Kenia's peak glows gold and rose A dawn breeze whispers to the plain With breath cooled sweet by mountain snows - "The darkness soon shall come again!" Stirs then the sleepless, lean Masai And stands o'er plain and peak at gaze Resentful of the bright'ning sky, Impatient of the white man's days. 

What first looked like a pleasant place dwindled into charmlessness andinsignificance as we approached. There was neatness--of a kind. Theround huts were confined to certain streets, and all inhabited bynatives. Arabs, Swahili, Indians, Goanese, Syrians, Greeks and so onhad to live in rectangular huts and keep to other streets. On onestreet, chiefly of stores, all the roofs were of corrugated iron. Andall the streets were straight, with shade trees planted down both sidesat exactly equal intervals. 

But the German blight was there, instantly recognizable by any one notmentally perverted by German teaching. The place was governed--existedfor and by leave of government. The inhabitants were there onsuffrance, and aware of it--not in the very least degree enthusiasticover German rule, but awfully appreciative. 

The first thing we met of interest on entering the township was achain-gang, fifty long, marching at top speed in step, led by a Nubiansoldier with a loaded rifle, flanked by two others, and pursued by afourth armed only with the hippo-hide whip, called kiboko by thenatives, that can cut and bruise at one stroke. He plied it liberallywhenever the gang betrayed symptoms of intending to slow down. 

Those Nubiains, we learned later, were deserters from British Sudaneseregiments, and runaways from British jails, afraid to take thethousand-mile journey northward home again, scornful of all foreignblack men, fanatic Muhammedans, and therefore fine tools in the Germanhand. They worked harder than the chain-gang, for they had to marchwith it step for step and into the bargain force it to do its appointedlabor. The chain-gang kept the township clean--very clean indeed, asfar as outward appearance went. 

The boma, or fort, was down by the water-front and its high easternwall, pierced by only one gate, formed one boundary of the drill-groundthat was also township square. Facing the wall on the eastern side ofthe square was a row of Indian and Arab stores. At the north end wasthe market building--an enormous structure of round stucco pillarssupporting a great grass roof; and facing that at the southern endwere the court-house, the hospital, and a store owned by the DeutchOest Africa Gesellschaft, known far and wide by its initials--a concernthat owned the practical monopoly of wholesale import and export trade, and did a retail business, too. 

We went first to the hospital. Fred and Will lifted me out of thehammock, for my wound had grown much worse during the last few days, and the door being shut they set me down on the step. Then we sentKazimoto into the fort with a note to the senior officer informing himthat a European waited at the hospital in need of prompt medicaltreatment. 

The sentry admitted Kazimoto readily enough, but he did not come outagain for half-an-hour, and then looked glum. 

"Habanah!" he said simply, using the all-embracing native negative. 

"Isn't any one in there?" we demanded all together. 

"Surely. "

"How many?"

"Very many. "

"Officers?"

He nodded. 

"Is a doctor there?"

He told us he had asked for the doctor. A soldier had pointed him out. He had placed the note in the doctor's hand. 

"Did he read it?" we asked. 

"Surely. He read it, and then showed it to the other officers. "

"What did they say?"

"They laughed and said nothing. "

It seemed pretty obvious that Kazimoto had made a mistake in some way. Perhaps he had visited the non-commissioned officers' mess. 

I'll go myself, " announced Will. "I can sling the German language likea barkeep. Bet you I'm back here with a doctor inside of threeminutes!"

He strode off like Sir Galahad in football shorts, and was passedthrough the gate by the sentry almost unchallenged. But he was gonemore than fifteen minutes, and came back at last with his ears crimson. Nor would he answer our questions. 

"Shall I go?" suggested Fred. 

"Not unless you like insolence! We passed the camping-ground, itseems, on our way in. We've leave to pitch tents there. We'd betterbe moving. "

So we trailed back the way we had come to a triangular sandy spaceenclosed by a cactus hedge at the junction of three roads. There wereseveral small grass-roofed shelters with open sides in there, and twotents already pitched, but we were not sufficiently interested justthen to see who owned the other tents. We pitched our own--stowed theloads in one of the shelters--gave our porters money for board andrations--and sent them to find quarters in the town. Another of theshelters we took over for a kitchen, and while our servants werecooking a meal we four gathered in Fred's tent and began to questionWill again. 

"They've got a fine place in there, " he said. "Neat as a new pin. Officers' mess. Non-commissioned officers' quarters. Stores. Vegetable garden. Jail--looks like a fine jail--hold a couple ofhundred. Government offices. Two-story buildings. Everything fine. The officers were all sitting smoking on a veranda. 

"'Is one of you the doctor?' I asked in German, and a tall lean onewith a mighty mean face turned his head to squint at me: but he didn'ttake his feet off the rail. He looked inquisitive, that's all. 

"'Are you the doctor?' I asked him. 

"'I am staff surgeon, ' he answered. 'What do you want?'

"I told him about your wound, and how we'd marched about two hundredmiles on purpose to get medical assistance. He listened without askinga question, and when I'd done he said curtly that the hospital opensfor out-patients at eight in the morning. 

"Well, I piled it on then. I told him your leg was so rotten that youmight not be alive to-morrow morning. He didn't even look interested. I piled it on thicker and told him about the poisoned spear. He didn'tbat an eyelid or make a move. So I started in to coax him. 

"I did some coaxing. Believe me, I swallowed more pride in fiveminutes than I guessed I owned! A ward-heeler cadging votes for aMilwaukee alderman never wheedled more gingerly. I called him 'HerrStaff Surgeon' and mentioned the well-known skill of German medicos, and the keen sense of duty of the German army, and a whole lot of otherstuff. 

"'Tomorrow morning at eight!' was all the answer I got from him. 

"I reckon it was somewhere about that time I began to get rattled. Ipulled out money and showed it. He looked the other way, and when Iwent on talking he turned his back. I suspect he didn't dare keep onlookin' at money almost within reach. Anyhow, then I opened on him, firin' both bow guns. I dared him to sit there, with a patient in needof prompt attention less than two hundred yards away. I called himnames. I guaranteed to write to the German government and the UnitedStates papers about him. I told him I'd have his job if it cost me allmy money and a lifetime's trouble. He was just about ready toshoot--I'd just about got the red blood rising on his neck andears--when along came the commandant--der Herr Capitain--the officercommanding Muanza--a swag-bellied ruffian with a beard and a beery lookin his eye, but a voice like a man falling down three stories with allthe fire-irons. 

"'What do you want?' he demanded in English, and I thanked him firstfor not having mistaken me for one of his own countrymen. Then I toldhim what I'd come for. 

"'To-morrow at eight o'clock!' he snapped, after he'd had a word withthe medico. 'Meanwhile, make yourself scarce out of here! There is acamping-ground for the use of foreigners. You and your party go to it! If you do any damage there you will hear from me later!'

"I didn't come as easy as all that. I stood there telling him thingsabout Germany and Germans, and what I'd do to help his personalreputation with the home folks, until I guessed he had his craw as nearfull as he could stand it without having me arrested. Then I didcome--whistling Yankee-doodle. And say--Fred! Where's that concertinaof yours?"

Fred patted it. His beloved instrument was never far from hand. 

"Why don't you play all the American and English tunes you knowto-night? Play and sing 'em, Britannia Rule the Waves--MarchingThrough Georgia--My Country 'tis of Thee--The Marseillaise -The BattleHymn of the Republic--and anything and everything you know thatSquareheads won't like. Let's make this camp a reg'lar--hello--seewho's here!"

Fred had begun fingering the keys already and the first strains ofMarching Through Georgia began to awake the neighborhood to recognitionof the fact that foreigners were present who held no especial brief forGerman rule. The tent-door darkened. Brown leapt to his feet andswore. 

"Gassharamminy!" said a voice we all recognized instantly. "That tunesounds good! I've lived in the States! I'm a United States citizen!A man can't forget his own country's tunes so easily!"

Cool and impudent, Georges Coutlass entered and, without waiting for aninvitation, took a seat on a load of canned food. Brown grabbed thenearest rifle (it happened to be Fred's)--snapped open thebreach--discovered it was loaded--and took aim. Coutlass did not evenblink. He was either sure Fred and Will would interfere, or else atthe end of his tether and indifferent to death. 

"Don't be an ass, Brown!"

Fred knocked the rifle up. Will took it away and returned it to thecorner. 

"All very easy for you men to take high moral ground and all that sortof rot, " Brown grumbled. "It's my cattle he took! It's me be'sruined! What do I care if the Germans hang me? Let me have a crack athim--just one!"

"Use your fists all you care to!" grinned Will. 

But Brown was no match for the Greek without weapons--very likely nomatch for him with them. Coutlass sat still and grinned, while Brownremained in the back of the tent, glaring. 

"Bah!" sneered Coutlass. "Of what use is being sulky? I found cattlein a village. How should I know whose cattle they were? Why blame me? The Masai got the cattle, not I! They took them from me, and they'dhave taken them from you just the same! You lost nothing by my liftingthem first! Gassharamminy! By blazes! We're all in the same boat!Let's be friendly, and treat one another like gentlemen! We're all inthe power of the Germans, unless we can think of a way to escape! Iand my party are under arrest. So will you be by to-morrow! I shalltell a tale to-morrow that will keep you by the heels for a month atleast while they investigate! Wait and see!"

"Get out of this tent!" growled Fred in the dead-level voice he useswhen he means to brook no refusal. 

"Presently!"

Fred made a spring at him, but Coutlass was on his feet with the speedof a cat, and just outside the tent in time to avoid the swing ofFred's fist. He withdrew about two yards and stood there grinningmaliciously. 

"You'll be glad to make terms with me by this time to-morrow!" heboasted. "By James, you'll be glad to have me for a friend! Listen, you fools! Make terms with me now; let us all go together and unearththat Tippoo Tib ivory, and I can arrange with these Germans to let usgo away! Otherwise, you shall see how long you stop here! By theTwelve Apostles! You shall rot in a German jail until your jointscreak!"

His Greek friend and the Goanese, supposing him in trouble perhaps, came and stood in line with him. Very comfortless they looked, and ofthe three only Coutlass had courage of a kind. 

"They stole the cattle on the British side of the border, " Will saidsotto voice. "No earthly use threatening them with German law. "

"Keep away from our camp, " Fred Ordered them, "or take theconsequences! Mr. Brown here is in no mood for pleasantries!"

"That drunkard Brown?" roared Coutlass. "He is in no mood for--oh, haw-hah-hee-ho-ha-ha-ha-ha! Drunkard Brown of Lumbwa wants to avengehimself, and his friends won't let him! Oh, isn't that a joke! Oh, ha-ha-ha-hee-hee-ha-ho-ho!"

His two companions made a trio of it, yelling with stage laughter likedisgusting animals. Fred took a short quick step forward. Willfollowed, and Brown reached for the rifle again. But I stopped allthree of them. 

"Come back! Don't let's be fools!" I insisted. "I never saw a moreobvious effort to start trouble in my life! It's a trap! Keep out ofit!"

"Sure enough, " Will admitted. "You're right!"

He returned into the tent and the Greeks, perhaps supposing he went forweapons, retreated, continuing to shout abuse at Brown who, between ayearning to get drunk and sorrow for his stolen cattle, was growingtearful. 

"They got here first, " I argued. "They've had time to tell their ownstory. That may account for our cold reception by the Germans. Hesays they're under arrest. That may be true, or it may be a trick. It's perfectly obvious Coutlass wanted to start a fight, and I'm deadsure he wasn't taking such a chance as it seemed. Who wants to lookbehind the cactus hedge and see whether he has friends in ambush?"

"Drunkard Brown is on the town--on the town--on the town!" roaredCoutlass and his friends from not very far away. 

"Oh, let me go and have a crack at 'em!" begged Brown. "I tell you Idon't care about jail! I don't care if I do get killed!"

Fred kept a restraining hand on him. Will left the tent and walkedstraight for the gap in the cactus hedge by which we had entered theenclosure. It was only twenty yards away. 

Once through the gap he glanced swiftly to right and left--laughed--andcame back again. 

"Only six of 'em!" he grinned. "Six full-sized Nubians in uniform, with army boots on, no bayonets or rifles, but good big sticks andhandcuffs! If we'd touched those Greeks they'd have jumped the fenceand stretched us out! What the devil d'you suppose they want us injail for?"

"D'you suppose they think, " I said, "that if they had us in jail inthis God-forsaken place we'd divulge the secret of Tip-poo's ivory?"

"Why don't we tell 'em the secret!" suggested Will, and that seemedsuch a good idea that we laughed ourselves back into good temper--evenBrown, who had no notion whether we knew the secret, being perfectlysure we would not be such fools as to tell the true whereabouts of thehoard in any case. 

"I want to get even with all Africa!" he grumbled. "I want to maketrouble that'll last! I'd start a war this minute if I knew how! Ifit weren't for those bloody Greeks laughing at me I'd get more drunkto-night than any ten men in the world ever were before in history!Yes, sir! And my name's Brown of Lumbwa to prove I mean what I say!"

After a while, seeing that no trouble was likely, the Nubian soldierscame out of ambush and marched away. We ate supper. The Greeks andthe Goanese subsided into temporary quiet, and our own boys, squattingby a fire they had placed so that they could watch the Greeks'encampment, began bumming a native song. Their song reminded Fred ofWill's earlier suggestion, and he unclasped the concertina. 

Then for three-quarters of an hour he played, and we sang all the tuneswe knew least likely to make Germans happy, repeating The Marseillaiseand Rule Britannia again and again in pious hope that at least a fewbars might reach to the commandant's house on the hill. 

Whether they did or not--whether the commandant writhed as we hoped inthe torture of supreme insult, or slept as was likely from theafter-effect of too much bottled beer with dinner--there were otherswho certainly did hear, and made no secret of it. 

To begin with, the part of the township nearest us was the quarter ofround grass roofs, where the aborigines lived; and the Bantu heartresponds to tuneful noise, as readily as powder to the match. All thatsection of Muanza, man, woman and child, came and squatted outside thecactus hedge. (It was streng politzeilich verboten for natives toenter the European camping-ground, so that except when they wanted tosteal they absolutely never trespassed past the hedge. )

Enraptured by the unaccustomed strains they sat quite still until someSwahili and Arabs came and beat them to make room. When the struggleand hot argument that followed that had died down, Indians begancoming, and other Greeks, until most of the inhabitants of the easternside of town were either squatting or standing or pacing to and frooutside the camping-ground. 

At last rumor of what was happening reached the D. O. A. G. --the store atthe corner of the drill-ground, where it seemed the non-commissionedofficers took their pleasure of an evening. Pleasure, except as laiddown in regulations, is not permitted in German colonies to any exceptwhite folk. No less than eight German sergeants and a sergeant-major, all the worse for liquor, turned out as if to a fire and came downstreet at a double. 

They had kibokos in their hands. The first we heard of their approachwas the crack-crack-crack of the black whips falling on naked orthin-cotton-clad backs and shoulders. There was no yelling (it was notallowed after dark on German soil, at least by natives) but a suddenpattering in the dust as a thousand feet hurried away. Then, in theglow of our lamplight, came the sergeant-major standing spraddle-leggedin front of us. 

He was a man of medium height, in clean white uniform. The first thingI noticed about him was the high cheek-bones and murderous blue eyes, like a pig's. His general build was heavy. The fair mustache made noattempt to conceal fat lips that curled cruelly. His general air wasthat most offensive one to decent folk, of the bully who wouldingratiate by seeming a good fellow. 

"'nabnd, meine Herren!" he said aggressively, with a smile more thanhalf made up of contempt for courtesy. "Ich heiess Schubert-FeldwebelHans Schubert. "

"Wass wollen Sie?" Will asked. He was the only one of us who knewGerman well. 

But Schubert, it seemed, knew English and was glad to show it off. 

"You make fine music! Ach! Up at the D. O. A. G. Very near here weUnteroffitzieren spend the evening, all very fond of singing, yetwithout music at all. Will you not come and play with us?"

"I only know French and English tunes!" lied Fred. 

"Ach! I do not believe it! Kommen Sie! There is beer at theD. O. A. G. --champagne--brandy--whisky--rum--?"

"I'm going, then, for one!" announced Brown, getting up immediately. 

"Cigars--cigarettes--tobacco, " the sergeant-major continued. "There isno closing time. " He saw that the line of argument was not tempting, and changed his tactics. "Listen! You gentlemen have not too manyfriends in Muanza! I speak in friendship. I invite you on behalf ofmyself and other Unteroffitzieren to spend gemuthlich evening with us. That can do you no harm! In the course of friendly conversation muchcan be learned that official lips would not tell!

"Kommen Sie nun!"

"Let's go!" I said. "My leg hurts like hell. If I stay here I can'tsleep. Anything to keep from thinking about it! Besides, some onemust go and look after Brown!"

"Who'll watch those Greeks?" Fred demanded. "They'd as soon steal aseat!"

"We'd better all stay here together, " said Will, "and take turnskeeping watch till morning. " He said it with a straight face, but Idid not think he was in earnest. 

"Ach!" exclaimed Schubert. "That is all ganz einfach! You shall haveaskaris!"

He turned and shouted an order. A non-commissioned officer wentrunning back up-street. 

"You shall have three askaris to guard your camp. So nothing whatevershall be stolen! Then come along and make music--seien Sie gemuthlich!Yah?"

Brown had already gone, jingling money in his pocket. We waited untilthe Nubian soldiers came--saw them posted--and then walked up-streetbehind the sergeants, Schubert leading us all, and I limping betweenFred and Will. They as good as carried me the last half of the way. 

The sergeants marched with the air peculiar to military Germans, of menwho are going to be amused. They said nothing--did not smile--butstrode straight forward, three abreast, swinging their kibokos with asort of elephantine sporty air. They were men of all heights andthicknesses, but each alike impressed me with the Prussian militarymold that leaves a man no imagination of his own, and no virtue, butonly an animal respect for whatever can make to suffer, or appease anappetite. 

The D. O. A. G. Proved a mournful enough lounging place in which to spendconvivial evenings. However, it seemed that when the sergeant-majorhad decreed amusement the non-commissioned officers' mess overlookedall trifles in brave determination to obey. They marched in, hummingtunes (each a different one, and nearly all high tenor) and took seatsin a room at the rear of the building with their backs against amud-brick wall that was shiny from much rubbing by drill tunics. 

Down the center was a narrow table, loaded with drinks of all sorts. Acase of bottled beer occupied the place of pride at one end; asSchubert had boasted, nothing was lacking that East Africa could showin the way of imported alcohol. Under the table was an unopened caseof sweet German champagne, and on a little table against one wall weresuch things as absinth, chartreuse, peppermint, and benedictine. Soda-water was slung outside the window in a basket full of wet grasswhere the evening breeze would keep it cool. 

"Now for Gesang!" shouted Schubert, knocking the neck off a bottle ofbeer, and beginning to sing like a drunken pirate. 

A man whom he introduced as "a genuine Jew from Jerusalem" came outfrom a gloomy recess filled with tusks and sacks of dried red pepper, and watched everything from now on with an eye like a gimlet, writingdown in a book against each sergeant's name whatever he took to drink. They appeared to have no check on him. Nobody signed anything. Nobodyas much as glanced at his account. 

"What is the use?" said Schubert, noticing my glance and interpretingthe unspoken question. "There is just so much drink in the wholeplace. We shall drink every drop of it! All that matters is, who isto pay for the champagne? That stuff is costly. "

They all took beer to begin with, knocking the necks from the bottlesas if that act alone lent the necessary air of deviltry to the wholeproceedings. A small, very black Nyamwesi came with brush and pan andgroped on the floor all night for the splinters of glass, sleepingbetween times in a corner until a fresh volley of breaking bottle necksawoke him to work again. 

"Die Wacht am Rhein!" yelled Schubert. "Start it up! Sing thatfirst!" He began to sing it himself, all out of tune. 

Fred cut the noise short by standing up to play something nobody couldsing to a jangling clamor of chords and runs on which he prideshimself, that he swears is classical, but of which neither he noranybody knows the name. Then he drank some beer and sang a comic songor two in English, we joining in the choruses. 

Meanwhile, Brown was soaking away steadily, taking whatever drink camefirst to hand, and having no interest whatever in anything but the taskof assuaging the thirst he had accumulated in the course of all thatlong marching since he left home. He had forgotten his cattlealready--the Greeks who stole them--the Masai who stole from theGreeks. He paid for all he took, to the Jew's extreme surprise andsatisfaction, and grumbled at the price of everything, to the Jew'ssupremest unconcern. 

"An' my name's Brown o' Lumbwa, just in proof of all I say!" heinformed the room at large at intervals. 

When Will had exhausted all the American songs he knew, and Fred hadrun through his own long list there was nothing left for it but to makeup accompaniments to the songs the sergeants had been raised on. Fredmade the happy discovery that none of them knew The Marseillaise, so heplayed that as an antidote each time after they had made the hard-woodrafters ring and the smoke-filled air vibrate with Teutonic jingoism. The Jew, who probably knew more than he cared to admit, grew more andmore beady-eyed each time The Marseillaise was played. 

There was a pause in the proceedings at about ten o'clock, by whichtime all the sergeants except Schubert were sufficiently drunk to feelthoroughly at ease. Schubert was cold-eyed sober, although scarcelyany longer thirsty. 

A native was brought in by two askaris and charged before Schubert withhanging about the boma gate after dark. He was asked the reason. TheJew, sitting beside me with his book of names and charges, poured coolwater over my bandages and translated to me what they all said. Hespoke English very well indeed, but in such low tones that I couldscarcely catch the words, drawing in his breath and not moving his lipsat all. 

The native explained that he had waited to see the bwana makubwa--thecommandant. He had nowhere to go and no money with which to pay forlodging, so he proposed to wait outside the gate and watch for thecoming of the commandant next morning. He would intercept him on hisway down from the white house on the hill. 

He was asked why. To beg a favor. What favor? Satisfaction. Forwhat? For his daughter. He was the father of the girl whom thecommandant had favored with attentions. She had been a virgin. Nowshe was to have a child. It would be a half-black, half-white child. Who would now marry a woman with such a child as that? Yet nothing badbeen given her. She had been simply sent back home to be a charge onher parents and an already poverty-stricken village. Therefore he hadcome to ask that justice be done, and the girl be given at least apresent of money. 

The sergeants roared with laughter, all except Schubert, who seemedonly appalled by the impudence of the request. He sat back and orderedthe story repeated. 

"And you dare ask for money from the bwana makubwa!" he demanded. "You dog of a Nyamwesi! Is the honor not sufficient that your blackbrute of a daughter should have a baby by such a great person? Youcattle have no sense of honor! You must learn! Put him down! Beathim till I say stop!"

There was no need to put him down, however. The motion of the hand, voice inflection, order were all too well understood. The man layface-downward on the floor without so much as a murmur of objection, and buried his face in both hands. The askaris promptly stripped himof the thin cotton loin-cloth that constituted his only garment, tearing it in pieces as they dragged it from him. 

"Go on!" ordered Schubert. "Beat him!"

Both the askaris had kibokos. The longest of the two was split at thenether end into four fingers. The shortest was more than a yard long, tapering from an inch and a half where the man's fist gripped it tohalf an inch thick at the tip. They stood one each side of theirvictim and brought the whips down on his naked skin alternately. 

"Slowly!" ordered Schubert. "Slowly, and with all your strength! Thebrute doesn't feel it when you beat so fast! Let him wait for theblow! Don't let him know when it's coming! So--so is better!"

Not every blow drew blood, for a native's skin is thick and tough, especially where he sits. But the blows that fell on the back andthighs all cut the skin, and within two minutes the native's back was abloody mass, and there was blood running on the floor, and splashes ofblood on the whitewashed wall cast by the whips as they ascended. 

I made up my mind the man was going to be killed, for Schubert gave noorder and the askaris did not dare stop without one. The victimwrithed, but did not cry out, and the writhing grew less. Even Brownsobered up for a time at the sight of it. He came and sat between meand the Jew. 

"It's a shame!" he grumbled. "Up in our country twenty-five lashes isthe masshimum, an' only to be laid on in the presence of amassishtrate. You beat a black man an' they'll fine you first offense, jail you second offense, an' third offense God knows what they'll do!Poor ole Brown o' Lumbwa! They fined me once a'ready. Nessht timethey'll put me in jail! Better get quite drunk an' be blowed to it!"

He staggered back to his chair by the farther wall, leering at Schubertas he passed. 

"You're no gentleman!" he asserted aggressively. "You're no better 'na black man yourself! You ought-to-be-on-floor 'stead o' him!Dunno-how-behave-yourself! Take your coat off, an' come outside, an'fight like a man!"

Schubert gave the order to stop at last. The askaris stood aside, panting from the effort. 

"Get up!" ordered Schubert. 

The miserable Nyamwesi struggled to his feet and stood limply beforeSchubert, his back running blood and his face drawn with torture. 

"Don't you know how to behave!" demanded Schubert. 

The native made no answer. 

"If you don't salute properly I'll order you thrown down and thrashedagain!"

The native saluted in a sort of imitation of the German military manner. 

"Now, will you lie in wait for the bwana makubwa to trouble him withyour pig's affairs again?"

"No. "

"Will you go back home?"

"Yes. "

"You've learned a lesson, eh?"

"Yes. 

"Then say thank you!"

"Thank you!"

"Rrruksa!"* [*Ruksa, you have leave to go. ]

The poor wretch turned and went, staggering rather than walking, to thedoor and disappearing into outer darkness without a backward glance. 

"Now for some more songs and a round of drinks!" Schubert shouted. 

But Fred was no longer in mood to make music, or even to be civil. Heshut the concertina up, and asked the Jew how much he owed. Thesergeants went on singing without music, and while we waited for theJew to reckon up Fred's score Schubert came over to us, sat downbetween me and Fred, and proceeded to deal with the new situation inproper German military manner, by direct assault. 

"Always you English criticize!" he began. "Can you never travelwithout applying your cursed standards to everything you behold? Itell you, we Germans know how to rule these black people! Weunderstand! We employ no sickly sentiment! We give orders--they obey, or else suffer terribly and swiftly! In that manner we arrive atknowing where we are!"

"Are you well loved by the people?" Fred asked him politely. 

"Bah! Sie wollen wohl beliebt werden!* Not I! Not we! Of what valueis the love of such people? Their fear is what we cultivate! Havingmade them afraid of us, we successfully make them work our will! Butwhy should I trouble to explain? In a few years there will only be onegovernment of Africa! One, I tell you, and that German! You Englishare not fit to govern colonies! You are mawkishly sentimental! Youthink more of the feelings of a black man and of the rights of hiswomen than of progress--advancement--kultur! Bah! I tell you theyhave no feelings a real man need consider! They are only fit forfurthering the aims of us Germans! And their women have no rights!None whatever! You know, I suppose, that it is the policy of theGerman government to encourage the spread of Muhammedanism in Africa?Well, under the Muhammedan law as given in the Koran women have nosouls! That is good! That is as it should be! No women have souls!"

------------*You want to be popular, don't you!------------

"How about your own mother?" Fred suggested. 

"She was a good Prussian! She was a super-woman! Not to be mentionedin the same breath with women of any other race! Yet even she--thegood Prussian mother--could not hold a candle to a man! Her businesswas to raise sons for Prussia, and she did it! I have eight brothers, all in the army, and only one sister; she has four sons already!"

"Strange that your nation should breed like that!" said Fred. 

"Not strange at all!" answered Schubert. "We are needed to conquer theworld! Think, for instance, when we have conquered the Congo FreeState, and taken away East and South Africa from England--to saynothing of Egypt and India!--how many Prussian sergeant-majors we shallwant! Donnerwetter! Do you think we Germans will long be satisfiedwith this miserable section of East Africa that was all the Englishleft to us on this coast? We use this for a foothold, that is all! Weuse this to gain time and get ready! You think perhaps I do not know, eh? I am only feldwebel--non-commissioned officer, you call it. Welland good. I tell you our officers talk all the time of nothing else!And they don't care who hears them!"

The Jew gave Fred his bill, scrawled on a piece of wrapping paper. Schubert snatched it away and crumpled it into a ball. 

"Kreutzblitzen! You are my guests to-night! I invited you!"

"Thanks" Fred answered, "but we don't care to be your guests. Here, "he said, turning to the Jew, "take your, money!"

Schubert said nothing, but eyed the Jew with a perfectly blank face, asif he watched to see whether the man would damn himself or not. 

"Take your money!" repeated Fred. But the Jew turned his back andbusied himself with bottles at the side-table. 

"He knows better!" Schubert laughed. "He understands by this time ourGerman hospitality!"

"All right, " answered Fred. "We'll go out without paying!"

"Not at all, " retorted Schubert. "The mess shall pay bill in full!You stay here until I have said what I have to say to you! The rest ofyour party may go, but you stay! You can explain to the othersafterward. "

He leaned forward, reached a bottle of beer off the table, knocked offthe neck, and emptied the contents down his throat at a draught. Behind his back we exchanged glances. 

"I'll listen, " said Fred. 

"You alone?"

"No, we all stay. All or none!"

Schubert made a contemptuous gesture with his thumb toward Brown, whohad fallen dead drunk on the floor. 

"Will that one stay, too?"

"He is not of our party really, " Fred answered. "He knows nothing ofour affairs. "

"You men are in trouble--worse trouble than you guess!"

Schubert looked with his cruel blue eyes into each of ours in turn, then stared straight in front of him and waited. 

"I don't believe it, " Fred answered. "We have done nothing to merittrouble. "

"Merit in this world is another name for chance!" said Schubert. 

"What are we supposed to have done?" demanded Fred. 

Schubert at once assumed what was intended to be a sly look, ofuncommunicable knowledge. 

"None of my business to tell what my officers know, " he answered. "Asfor that, time will no doubt disclose much. The point is--trouble canbe forestalled. "

"Aw--show your hand!" cut in Will, leaning in front of Fred. "I'veseen you Heinies fishing for graft too often in the States not torecognize symptoms! Spill the bait can! There's no other way to tellif we'll bite! Tell us what you're driving at!"

"Ivory!" said Schubert savagely and simply, shutting his jaws after theword like a snap with a steel spring. It would have broken the teethof an ordinary human. 

"What ivory?"

We all did our best to look blank. 

"You know! Tippoo Tib's ivory! It belongs to the German government!Emin Pasha, whom that adventurer Stanley rescued against his will, agreed to sell the secret to us, but we never agreed on a price and hedied without telling. Gott! He would have told had I had the interviewing of him! It wasknown in Zanzibar that you and a certain English lord shared thesecret. You have been watched. You are known to be in search of thestuff. "

"The deuce you say!" Fred murmured, with a glance to left and right atus. 

"If you were to go to the office to-morrow, and tell our commandantwhat you know, " said Schubert, "you might be suitably compensated. Youwould certainly be given facilities for leaving the country in comfortat your leisure. "

"Who told you to promise us that?" Fred demanded, turning on him. 

The feldwebel did not answer, but sat with his legs straight out infront of him, his heels together, and the palms of his hands touchingbetween his knees. The sergeants were all singing, smoking anddrinking. The Jew was back at his old post, watching every one withgimlet eyes. 

"Think it over!" said Schubert, getting up. "There is time untilmorning. There is time until you leave this building. After that--"He shrugged his square shoulders brutally. 

There was no sense in going out at once, as we had intended, with thatcombination of threat and promise hanging over us. 

"Why not do what we said--admit that we know what we don't know--andput 'em on the wrong scent?" Will whispered. 

"I wish to God Monty were here!" groaned Fred. 

"Rot!" Will answered. "Monty is all you ever said of him and thensome; but we're able to handle this ourselves all right without him. Tell 'em a bull yarn, I say!"

Fred relapsed into a sort of black gloom intended to attract the Museof Strategy. He was always better at swift action in the open andoptimism in the face of visible danger, than at matching wits againstsomething he could not see beginning or end of. 

"Tell 'em it's in German East!" urged Will. "Offer to lead them to iton certain conditions. Think up controversial proposals! Play fortimer!"

Fred shook his head. 

"What if it turns out true? Monty's in Europe. Suppose he shouldlearn while he's there that the stuff is really in German East--we'dhave spoiled his game!"

"If the stuff should really be in German East, " Will argued, "we've nochance in the world of getting even a broker's share of it, Monty or noMonty! Take my advice and tell 'em what they want to know!"

Meanwhile an argument of another kind had started across the room. Schubert had related with grim amusement to Sergeant Sachse, who wassitting next him, our disapproval of the flogging of the father of thecommandant's abandoned woman. 

"At what were they shocked?" wondered Sachse. "At the flogging, or theintercourse, or because he sent the female packing when she proposed tohave a child? Do they not know that to have children about thepremises would be subversive of military excellence?"

"They were shocked at all three things, " grinned Schubert, "butchiefly, I think, at the flogging. "

"Bah! Such a tickling of a native's hide doesn't hurt him to speak of! Wait until they see our court in the morning!"

It was that that raised the clamor. Even Schubert, who might besupposed to have won promotion because he could stay sober longer thanthe others, was beginning to grow noisy in his speech and to laughwithout apparent reason. The rest were all already frankly drunk, andany excuse for dispute was a good one. They one and all, includingSchubert, denied Sachse's contention that a flogging did not hurtenough to matter. 

"I bet I could take one without winking!" Sachse announced. 

Schubert's little bright pig-eyes gleamed through the smoke at that. 

"Kurtz und gut!" he laughed. "There is a case of champagne unopened. I bet you that case of champagne that you lie! That you can not take aflogging!"

There was an united yelp of delight. The sergeants rose and gatheredround Sachse. Schubert cursed them and drove them to the chairs again. 

"Open that case of champagne!" he roared, and the Jew obeyed, settingthe bottles on the table in two rows. 

"I bet you those twelve bottles you dare not take a regular flogging, and that you can not endure it if you dare try!"

"I can stand as much as you!" hedged Sachse. 

"Good! We will see! We will both take a flogging--stroke for stroke!Whoever squeals first shall pay for the champagne!"

Sachse could not back out. His cheeks grew whiter, but be staggered tohis feet, swearing. 

"I will show you of what material a German sergeant is made!" heboasted. "It is not only Prussians who are men of metal! Howshall it be arranged?"

The arrangement was easy enough. Schubert shouted for an askari, andthe corporal who was doing police duty outside in the street camerunning. He had a kiboko in his hand almost a yard and a half long, and Schubert examined it with approval. 

"How would you like to flog white men?" he demanded. 

"I would not dare!" grinned the corporal. 

"Not dare, eh? Would you not obey an order?"

"Always I obey!" the man answered, saluting. 

"Good. I shall lie here. This other bwana shall lie there beside me. You shall stand between. First you shall strike one, then theother--turn and turn about until I give the order to cease! Andlisten! If you fail once--just one little time!--to flog with all yourmight, you shall have two hundred lashes yourself; and they shall begood ones, because I will lay them on! Is it understood?"

"Yes, " said the corporal, the whites of his eyes betraying doubt, fearand wonder. But he grinned with his lips, lest the foldwebel shouldsuspect him of unwillingness. 

"Are the terms understood?" demanded Schubert, and the sergeants yelpedin the affirmative. 

"Then choose a referee!"

One of the sergeants volunteered for the post. Schubert lay down onthe floor, and Sachse beside him about four feet away. The corporaltook his stand between. He was an enormous Nubian, broad of chest, with the big sloping shoulder muscles that betray double the strengththat tailors try to suggest with jackets padded to look square. 

"Nun--recht feste schlagen!"* ordered Schubert. Then he took the sleeveof his tunic between his teeth and hid his face. [*Now, hit good andhard!]

"One!" said the referee. Down came the heavy black whip with a cracklike a gun going off. Schubert neither winced nor murmured, but theblood welled into the seat of his pants and spread like red ink onblotting-paper. 

"'One!" said the referee again. The corporal faced about, and raisedhis weapon, standing on tiptoe to get more swing. Sachse flinched atthe sound of the whip going up, and the other sergeants roared delight. But he was still when it descended, and the crack of the blow drewneither murmur nor movement from him either. Like the feldwebel, hehad his sleeve between his teeth. 

"Two!" said the referee, and the black whip rose again. It descendedwith a crack and a splash on the very spot whence the blood flowed, this time cutting the pants open, but Schubert took no more notice ofit than if a fly had settled on him. There was a chorus of applause. 

"Two!" said the referee. Again the corporal faced about and balancedhimself on tiptoe. Sachse was much the more nervous of the two. Heflinched again while waiting for the blow, but met it when it did comewithout a tremor of any kind. He was much the softer. Blood flowedfrom him more freely, but his pants seemed to be of sterner stuff, forthey did not split until the eight-and-twentieth lash, or thereabouts. 

>From first to last, although the raw flesh lay open to the lash, andthe corporal, urged to it by the united threats and praise of all theother sergeants, wrought his utmost, Schubert lay like a man asleep. He might have been dead, except for the even rise and fall of hisbreathing, that never checked or quickened once. Nine-and-fortystrokes he took without a sign of yielding. At the eight-and-fortiethSachse moaned a little, and the referee gave the match against him. Schubert rose to his feet unaided, grinning, red in the face, butwithout any tortured look. 

"Now you can say forever that you have flogged two white men!" he toldthe askari. 

"Who will believe me?" the man answered. 

Sachse had to be helped to his feet. He was pale and demanded brandy. 

"What did I tell you?" laughed Schubert. "A Prussian is better thanany man! Look at him, and then at me!"

He shouted for his servant, who had to be fetched from the boma--asmug-faced little rascal, obviously in love with the glory reflected onthe sergeant-major's servant. He was made to produce a basin and coldwater--he discovered them somewhere in the dim recesses of thestore--and sponge his master's raw posterior before us all. Then hewas sent for clean white pants and presently Schubert, only refusing tosit down, was quite himself again. 

Sachse on the other hand refused the ministrations of the boy--wasannoyed by the chaff of the other sergeants--refused to drink any ofthe sweet champagne he would now have to pay for--and went away ingreat dudgeon, murmuring about the madness that takes hold of men inAfrica. 

Meanwhile, while Schubert strutted and swaggered, making jokes more rawand beastly than his own flogged hide, the Jew came and poured morecool water on my hot bandages, touching them with deft fingers thatlooked like the hairy legs of a huge spider--his touch moregentle--more fugitive than any woman's. 

"You should not tell zat dam feldwebel nozink!" he advised in nasalEnglish. "Nefer mind vat you tell heem he is all ze same not yourfrien. He only obey hees officers. Zey say to cut your troat--he cutit! Zey say to tell you a lot o' lies--he tell! He iss not a t'inker, but a doer: and hees faforite spectacle iss ze blood of innocence! Donot effer say I did not fell you! On ze ozzer hand, tell no one zat Idid tell! Zese are dangerous people!"

He resumed business with his account book, and I whispered to Fred andWill what advice he had given. Seeing us with our heads together, Schubert crossed the room, beginning to get very drunk now that theshock of the flogging had had time to reinforce the alcohol. (Theblows had sobered him at first. )

"What have you decided?" he asked, standing before us with his legsapart and his hands behind him in his favorite attitude--swaying gentlyback and forward because of the drink, and showing all his teeth in agrin. 

"Nothing, " Fred answered. "We'll think it over. "

"Too late in the morning!" he answered, continuing to sway. "I can donothing for you in the morning. "

"What can you do to-night?" Fred asked. 

He shrugged his shoulders. "I can report. The report will go in atdawn. "

"You may tell your superiors, " Fred answered, rising, "that if theycare to make us a reasonable offer, I don~t say we won't do business!"

Schubert leered. 

"To-morrow will be too late!" he repeated. 

It was Fred's turn to shrug shoulders, and he did it inimitably, turning his back on Schubert and helping Will support me to the door. The feldwebel stood grinning while I held to the doorpost and theydragged Brown to his feet. He made no offer to help us in any way atall, nor did any of the sergeants. 

There was no getting action from Brown. He was as dead to the world asa piece of wood, and there being no other obvious solution of theproblem, Will hoisted him upon his back and carried him, he snoring, all the way home to camp. Fred hoisted and carried me, for the pain ofmy wound when I tried to walk was unbearable. 

We reached camp abreast and were challenged by the sentries, who made agreat show of standing guard. They took Brown and threw him on the bedin his own tent--accepted Fred's offer of silver money--and departed, marching up-street in their heavy, iron-bound military boots with theswing and swagger only the Nubian in all the world knows just how toget away with. 

I lay on the bed in Fred's tent, and then Kazimoto came to us, hugelytroubled about something, stirring the embers of the fire before thetent and arranging the lantern so that its rays would betray anyeavesdropper. He searched all the shadows thoroughly, prodding intothem with a stick, before he unburdened his mind. 

"Those askaris were not put here to guard our tents, " he told us. (Thereally good native servant when speaking of his master's propertyalways says our, and never your. ) "As soon as you were gone the Greeksand the Goa came. They and the askaris questioned me. It was a trick! You were drawn away on purpose! One by one--two by two--theyquestioned us all, but particularly me. "

"What about?" Fred demanded. 

"About our business. Why are we here. What will we do. What do weknow. What do I know about you. What do you know about me. Why do Iserve you. How did I come to take service with you. To what placewill we travel next, and when. How much money have we with us. Havewe friends or acquaintances in Muanza. Do you, bwana, carry anyletters in your pockets. Of what do you speak when you suppose no manis listening. Bwana, my heart is very sad in me! Those Greeks telllies, and the Germans stir trouble in a big pot like the witches! Iknow the Germans! I am Nyamwezi. I was born not far from here, andran away as soon as I was old enough because the Germans shot my fatherand let my mother and brothers starve to death. I did not starve, because one of them took me for a servant; but I ran away from him. My heart is very sad to be in this place! They ask what of a hoard ofivory. I tell them I do not know, and they threaten to beat me! Thisplace is bad! Let us go away to-night!"

There was no sleep that night for any of us. My wound hurt too much. The others were too worried. By the light of the lantern in Fred'stent we cooked up a story to tell that we hoped would induce theGermans to let us wander where we chose. 

"Sure, they'll watch us!" Will admitted. "But as our only real reasonfor coming down here--leaving Brown's cattle out of the reckoning--wasto throw people off the scent, in what way are we worse off? The lakeis big enough to lose ourselves in! What is it--two hundred and fiftymiles long by as many broad? D'you mean we can't give their sleuthsthe slip? We can't beat that for a plan: let 'em keep on thinking weknow where Tippoo hid the stuff. If we succeed in losing 'em they'llthink we're at large in German East and keep on hunting for us--whereaswe'll really be up in British East. Let's send a telegram in code toMonty!"

Then Fred thought of an idea that in the end solved our biggestproblem, although we did not think much of it at the time. 

"They may refuse to take a telegram in code, " he said. "It's likelythey'll open letters. (We can try the code, of course. They'llprobably take our money, and put their experts on deciphering themessage. They'll say it was lost if there are any inquiriesafterward. ) I propose we send a straight-out cablegram advising Montyof our whereabouts (they'll let that go through) and warning him to askfor letters at the Bank in Mombasa before he does anything else. "

"Yes, but--" Will objected. 

"Wait!" said Fred. "I haven't finished. Then write two letters: onefull of any old nonsense, to be sent in the regular way by mail. They'll open that. The other to go by runner. Kazimoto can find us arunner. He knows these Wan-yamwezi. He can pick a man who'll getthrough without fail. "

We could think of nothing to say against the plan. The argument thatthe German government would scarcely stoop to opening private mail didnot seem to hold water when we examined it, so we wrote as Fredsuggested--one letter telling Monty that we hoped to make somearrangement with the Germans, and at all events to wait in German Eastuntil he could join us--and the other telling him the real facts atgreat length, laboriously set out in the code we had agreedupon. 

We sealed the second letter in several wrappers, and sewed it upfinally in a piece of waterproof silk. Then we sent for Kazimoto andordered him to find the sort of messenger we needed. 

"Send me!" he urged. "I will start now, before it is light! I willhide by day and travel by night until I reach the British border! Giveme only enough cooked food and my pay and I will take the letterwithout fail!"

We refused, for he was too useful to us. He begged again and again tobe sent with the letter, promising faithfully to wait for us afterwardon the British side of the border at any place we should name. But weupbraided him for cowardice, ordered him to find another messenger, andpromised him he need have no fear of Germans as long as he remained ourservant. 

Before high noon we would each have given many years of Kazimoto's payif only we could have recalled that decision and have known that he wasspeeding away from Muanza toward a border where white men knew the useof mercy. 

Just as the first peep of dawn began to color the sky Schubert cameswaggering down-street to us, wiping his mouth with the back of hishand. 

"How have you slept?" he asked us, laughing. 

We answered something or other. 

"I did not trouble to sleep! I stayed and finished the drinks. I havejust swallowed the last of the beer! Whoever wants a morning drinkmust wait for it now until the overland safari comes!"

We displayed no interest. Brown, the only one likely to yearn foralcohol before breakfast, snored in his still. 

"What of it now? I go drill my troops. Parade is sharp! There remaintwenty minutes. Come with me tell your secret at the boma now, beforeit is too late!"

"Explain why it would be too late after breakfast!" demanded Fred. 

"All right, " said Schubert. "I will tell you this much. There willcome a launch this morning from Kisumu in British East. There will bepeople on that launch, one of whom has authority that overrides that ofthe commandant of this place. The commandant desires to know yourinformation--and get the credit for it--before that individual, whoseauthority is higher, comes. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, " Fred answered. 

"See if this is clear, too!" cut in Will. "You go and ask yourcommandant what price he offers for the secret! Nothing for nothing!Tell him we're not afraid of him!"

"It is none of my business to tell him anything, " sneered Schubert, spitting and turning on his heel. He swaggered out of thecamping-ground and up-street again, leaving the clear impression behindhim that he washed his hands of us for good and all. 

"Let's watch him drill his men, " said I. "I'll wait on the hospitalsteps until they open the place. "

So we ate a scratch breakfast and Fred and Will helped me up-street, past where the Jew stood blinking in the morning sun on the steps ofthe D. O. A. G. He seemed to be saying prayers, but beckoned to us. 

"Trouble!" he said. "Trouble! If you have any frien's fetchthem--send for them!"

"Can yon send a letter for us to British East?" Fred asked him. 

"God forbid!" He jumped at the very thought, and shrugged himself likea man standing under a water-spout. "What would they do to me if Iwere found out?"

"What is the nature of the trouble?" Fred asked him. 

"Ali, who should tell! Trouble, I tell you, trouble! Zat cursedSchubert sat here drinking until dawn. I heard heem say many t'ings!Send for your friens!"

He turned his back on us and ran in. There was a lieutenant arrayed inspotless white with a saber in glittering scabbard watching us all fromthe boma gate. A little later that morning we knew better why the Jewfled indoors at sight of him. 

Schubert was standing in mid-square with a hundred askaris lined uptwo-deep in front of him. There were no other Germans on parade. Thecorporals were Nubians, and the rest of the rank and file either Nubianor some sort of Sudanese. He was haranguing them in a bastard mixtureof Swahili, Arabic, and German, they standing rigidly at attention, their rifles at the present. 

Not content with the effect of his words, he strode up presently to afront-rank man and hit him in the face with clenched fist. In theeffort to recover his balance the man let his rifle get out ofalignment. Schubert wrenched it from him. It fell to the ground. Hestruck the man, and when he stooped to pick the rifle up kicked him inthe face. Then he strode down the line and beat two other men forgrinning. All this the lieutenant watched without a sign ofdisapproval, or even much interest. 

Meanwhile the chain-gang emerged from the boma gate, going full-pelt, fastened neck to neck, the chain taut and each man carrying awater-jar. The minute they had crossed the square Schubert commencedwith company drill, and for two hours after that, with but one intervalof less than five minutes for rest, he kept them pounding the gravel inevolution after evolution--manual exercise at the double--skirmishingexercise--setting up drill--goose-step, and all the mechanical, merciless precision drill with which the Germans make machines of men. 

His debauch did not seem in the least to have affected him, unless tomake his temper more violently critical. By seven o'clock the sun wasbeating down on him and dazzling his eyes from over the boma wall. Thedust rose off the square. The words of command came bellowing in swiftsuccession from a throat that ought to have been hard put to it towhisper. If anything, he grew more active and exacting as the askariswearied, and by the time the two hours were up they were ready to a manto drop. 

But not so he. He dismissed them, and swaggered over to themarketplace to hector and bully the natives who were piling their waresin the shade of the great grass roof. Then he went into the boma tobreakfast just as a sergeant in khaki came over and unlocked thehospital door. I followed the sergeant in, but he ordered me out again. 

"I have come to see the doctor, " I said. "I need attention. "

He was not one of the sergeants who had been drunk in the D. O. A. G. Thenight before, but a man of a higher mental type, although no less surly. 

"It will be for the doctor to say what you need when he has seen you!"he answered, turning his back and busying himself about the room. Willtranslated, and I limped out again. 

By and by the doctor came, and passed me sitting on the steps amid athrong of natives who seemed to have all the imaginable kinds of sores. He took no notice of me, but sent out the sergeant to inquire why Ihad not stood up as he passed. I did not answer, and the sergeant wentin again. 

Fred by that time was simply blasphemous, alternately threatening to goin and kick the doctor, and condemning Will's determination to do thesame thing. Finally we decided to see the matter through patiently, and all sat together on the steps watching the activity of the square. There was a lot going on--bartering of skins and hides--counting ofcrocodile eggs, brought in by natives for sake of the bounty of a fewcopper coins the hundred--a cock-fight in one corner--the carrying toand fro of bunches of bananas, meat, and grain in baskets; and in andout among it all full pelt in the hot sun marched the chain-gang, doingthe township dirty work. 

By and by Schubert emerged from the boma gate followed by nativescarrying a table and a soap-box. He set these under a limb of thegreat baobab that faced the boma gate not far from the middle of thesquare. I noticed then for the first time that a short hempen ropehung suspended from the largest branch, with a noose in the end. Thenoose was not more than two feet below the branch. 

Schubert's consideration of the table's exact position, and the placingof the soap-box on the table, was interrupted by the arrival ofCoutlass, his Greek companion and the Goanese arm in arm, followedclosely by two askaris who shouted angrily and made a great show oftrying to prevent them. One of the askaris aimed his rifle absurdly atCoutlass, both Greeks and the Goanese daring him gleefully to pull thetrigger. 

They purposely came close to us, not that we showed signs of meaning tobefriend them. They were simply unable to understand that there aredegrees of disgrace. To Coutlass all victims of government outrageought surely to be more than friendly with any one in conflict with thelaw. Personal quarrels should go for nothing in face of the commonwrong. 

"There is going to be a hanging!" Coutlass shouted to us. "Theythought we would remain quietly in camp with that going on! Give uschairs!" he called to Schubert. "Provide us a place in the front rowwhere we may see!"

Schubert grinned. He returned to the boma yard and presumablyconferred with an officer, for presently he came out again and gave theGreeks leave to stand under the tree, provided they would return tocamp afterward. Later yet, Brown came along and joined us on thesteps, looking red-eyed and ridiculous. 

"Goin' to be a hangin, " he announced. "I been askin' natives about it. Black man stole the condemned man's daughter an' refused to pay cowsfor her accordin' to custom or anythin'--said he could do what thewhite men did an' help himself. Father of the girl took a spear andsettled the thief's hash with it--ran him through--did a clean job. Serve him right--eh--what? Germans went an' nabbed him, though--triedhim in open court--goin' to hang him this mornin' for murder! How doesit strike you?"

We were not exactly in mood to talk to Brown--in fact, we wished himanywhere but with us, but he thought self perfectly welcome, andrambled on:

"Up in British East we don't hang black men for murder unless it's whatthey call an aggravated case--murder an' robbery--murder an'arson--murder an' rape. Hang a white man for murderin' a black sure asyou're sitting here, an' shoot a black man for murderin' a white; butthe blacks don't understand, so when they kill one another in such acase this, why we give 'em a short jail sentence an' a good lo lecture, an' let 'em go again. These folks have it t'other way round. Theynever hang a German, whether he's guilty or not, but hang a poor blackman, what doesn't understand, for half o' nothin'!"

A great crowd began gathering about the tree, and was presently drivenby askaris with whips into a mass on the far side of the tree from us. Whether purposely or not, they left a clear view from the hospitalsteps of all that should happen. Evidently warning had been sent outbroadcast, for the inhabitants of village after village came troopinginto town to watch, each lot led by its sultani in filthy rags and thefoolish imitation crown his conquerors had supplied him at severaltimes its proper price. The square was a dense sea of people beforenine o'clock, and the askaris made the front few hundreds lie, and thenext rows squat, in order that the men and women behind might see. 

Then at last out came the victim with his hands tied behind him and abright red blanket on his loins. He was a proud-looking fellow. Hehalted a moment between his guard of German sergeants and eyed thecrowd, and us, and the tree, and the noose. Then he looked down on theground and appeared to take no further interest. 

The sergeants took him by the arms and led him along to the tablebetween them. Out came the commandant then, in snow-white uniform, with his saber polished until it shone--all spruced up for theoccasion, and followed by a guard of honor consisting of lieutenant, two sergeants, and six black askaris. 

There was a chair by the table. At sight of the commandant thesergeants made their victim use that as a step by which to mount thetable and soap-box, and there he stood eying his oppressors as calmlyas if he were witnessing a play. A murmur arose among the crowd. Anumber of natives called to him by name, but he took no notice afterthat one first steady gaze. 

"They're sayin' good-by to him, " said Brown, breathing in my ear. "They're telling him they won't forget him!"

The crack of askaris' whips falling on head and naked shoulders swiftlyreduced the crowd to silence. Then the commandant faced them all, andmade a speech with that ash-can voice of his--first in German, then inthe Nyamwezi tongue. Will translated to us sentence by sentence, thedoctor standing on the top step behind us smiling approval. He seemedto think we would be benefited by the lecture just as much as thenatives. 

It was awful humbug that the commandant reeled off to his silentaudience--hypocrisy garbed in paternal phrases, and interlarded withbuncombe about Germany's mission to bring happiness to subject peoples. 

"Above all, " he repeated again and again, "the law must be enforcedimpartially--the good, sound, German law that knows no fear or favor, but governs all alike!"

When he had finished he turned to the culprit. 

"Now, " he demanded, "do you know why you are to be hanged?"

There was a moment's utter silence. The crowd drew in its breath, seeming to know in advance that some brave answer was forthcoming. Theman on the table with his hands behind him surveyed the crowd againwith the gaze of simple dignity, looked down on the commandant, andraised his voice. It was an unexpected, high, almost falsetto note, that in the silence carried all across the square. 

"I am to die, " he said, "because I did right! My enemy did what Germanofficers do. He stole my young girl. I killed him, as I hope all youGermans may be killed! But hope no longer gathers fruit in this land!"

"Ah-h-h-h!" the crowd sighed in unison. 

"Good man!" exploded Fred, and the doctor tried to kick him frombehind--not hard, but enough to call his attention to the proprieties. His toe struck me instead, and when I looked up angrily he tried topretend he was not aware of what he had done. 

Under the trees the commandant flew into a rage such I have seldomseen. Each land has a temper of its own, an the white man's angervaries in inverse ratio with his nearness to the equator. But furorteutonicus transplanted is the least controllable least dignified, least admirable that there is. And that man's passion was the apex ofits kind. 

His beard spread, as a peacock spreads its tail. His eyes blazed. Hiseyebrows disappeared under the brim of his white helmet, and hisclenched fists burst the white cotton gloves. He half-drew hissaber--thought better of that, and returned it. There was an askaristanding near with kiboko in hand to drive back the crowd should anypress too closely. He snatched the whip and struck the condemned manwith it, as high up as he could reach, making a great welt across hisbare stomach. The man neither winced nor complained. 

"For those words, " the commandant screamed at him in German, "you shallnot die in comfort! For that insolence, mere hanging is too good!"

Then he calmed himself a little, and repeated the words in the nativetongue, explaining to the crowd that German dignity should be upheld atall costs. 

"Fetch him down from there, " he ordered. 

Schubert sprang on the table and knocked the condemned man off it witha blow of his fist. With hands bound behind him the poor fellow had nopower of balance, and though he jumped clear he fell face-downward, skinning his cheek on the gravel. The commandant promptly put a footon his neck and pinned him down. 

"Flog him!" he ordered. "Two hundred lashes!"

It was done in silence, except for the corporal's labored breathing andthe commandant's incessant sharp commands to "beatharder--harder--harder. A sergeant stood by counting. The crack ofthe whip divided up the silence into periods of agony. 

When the count was done the victim was still conscious. Schubert and asergeant dragged him to his feet, and hauled him to the table. Fourother men--two sergeants and two natives--passed a rope round the tablelegs. Schubert lifted the victim by the elbows so that his head couldpass through the noose, and when that was accomplished the man had tostand on tiptoe on the soap-box in order to breathe at all. 

"All ready!" announced Schubert, and jumped off with a laugh, his whitetunic bloody from contact with the victim's tortured back. 

"Los!" roared the commandant

The men hauled on the rope. Table and soap-box came tumbling away, andthe victim spun in the air on nothing, spinning round, and round, andround--slower and slower and slower--then back the other way roundfaster and faster. They say hanging is a merciful death--that the pressure of rope on twoarteries produces anesthesia, but few are reported to have come back totell of the experience. At any rate, as is not the case with shooting, it is easy to know when the victim is really dead. 

For seconds that seemed minutes--for minutes that seemed hours the poorwretch spun, his elbows out, his knees up, his tongue out, his facewrinkled into tortured shapes, and his toes pointed upward so sharplythat they almost touched his shins. Then suddenly the toes turneddownward and the knees relapsed. The corpse hung limp, and the Crowdsighed miserably, to the last man, woman and child, turning its back onwhat to them must have symbolized German rule. 

They left the corpse hanging there. It was to be there until evening, some one said, for an example to frequenters of the market-place. Thecrowd trailed away, none glancing back. The pattering of feet ceased. The market-place across the square resumed its hum and activity. Thena native orderly came down the steps and touched me on the elbow. Istruggled to my feet and limped after him up the steps. 

Practically at the mercy of the doctor, I made up my mind to be civilto him whether that suited me or not. I rather expected he would cometo meet me, perhaps help me to chair, and I wondered how, in myignorance of German, I should contrive to answer his questions. 

But I need not have worried. I did not even see him. He had left bythe back door, and the orderly washed the wound and changed mybandages. That was all. There was no charge for the bandages, and theorderly was gentle now that his master's back was turned. 

"Didn't he leave word when he would see me?" I asked. 

"Habandh!" he answered--meaning, "He did not--there is not--there isnothing doing!"

CHAPTER EIGHT

IPSOS CUSTODES

We were an ignorant people. Out of a gloom we cameHungering, striving, feasting--vanishing into the same. Came to us your foreloopers, told us the gloom was bad, Spoke of the Light that might be--simply it could be had -Knowledge and wealth and freedom, plenty and peace and play, And at all the price of obedience. "Listen and learn and obey, "We were told, "and the gloom shall be lifted. Ignorance surelyis shame. "We listened to your foreloopersy till presently Cadis* came. 

We were an ignorant people. Our law was "an eye for an eye, "And he who wronged should right the wrong, and he who stole should die -Bad law the Cadis told us, based on the fall of man;And they set us to building law-courts on the Pangermanic plan--Courts where the gloom of ages should be pierced, said they, withLightAnd scientific theory displace wrong views of Right. The Cadis' law was writ in books that only they could read, But what should we know of the strings to that? 'Twas gloom when weagreed. 

We were an ignorant people. The Offizieren cameTo lend to law eye, tooth, and claw and so enforce the same. Now nought are the tribal customs; free speech is under ban;Displaced are misconceptions that were based on fallen man, And our gloom has gone in darkness of the risen German's night, Nor is there salt of mercy lest it sap the hold of Might. They strike--we may not answer, nor dare we ask them why. We sold ourselves to supermen. If we rebel, we die. 

-----------------* Cadi--judge. -----------------

I sat down once more on the hospital steps, and listened while Fred andWill relieved themselves of their opinions about German manners. Nothing seemed likely to relieve me. I had marched a hundred miles, endured the sickening pain, and waited an extra night at the end of itall simply on the strength of anticipation. Now that the surgeon wouldnot see me, hope seemed gone. I could think of nothing but to go andhide somewhere, like a wounded animal. 

But there were two more swift shocks in store, and no hiding-place. The path to the water-front led past us directly along the southernboma wall. Before Fred and Will had come to an end of swearing theysaw something that struck them silent so suddenly that I looked up andsaw, too. Not that I cared very much. To me it seemed merely one lastsuper-added piece of evidence that life was not worth while. 

Plainly the launch had come from British East, of which Schubert hadspoken. Hand in hand from the water-front, followed by the obsequiousSchubert, all smiles and long black whip (for the chain-gang trailedafter with the luggage, and needed to be overawed), walked ProfessorSchillingschen and Lady Isobel Saffren Waldon. They seemed in love--orat any rate the professor did, for he ogled and smirked like a beardedgargoyle; and she made such play of being charmed by his grimaces thatthe Syrian maid fell behind to hide her face. 

None of us spoke. We watched them. Personally I did not mind thefeeling that the worst had happened at last. I was incapable ofsounding further depths of gloom--too full of pain bodily to suffermentally from threats of what might yet be. But the other two lookedmiserable--more so because Fred's bearded chin perked up so bravely, and Will set his jaw like a rock. 

Not one of us had said a word when the biggest askari we had seen yetstrode up to us--saluted--and gave Fred a sealed envelope. It waswritten in English, addressed to us three by name (although our nameswere wrongly spelled). We were required to present ourselves at thecourt-house at once, reason not given. The letter was signed"Liebenkrantz, --Lieutenant. "

The askari waited for us. I suppose it would not be correct to say wewere under arrest, but the enormous black man made it sufficientlyobvious that he did not intend returning to the court without us. Thecourt-house was not more than two hundred yards away. As we turnedtoward it we saw Lady Saffren Waldon being helped into the commandant'slitter, borne by four men, the commandant himself superintending theceremony with a vast deal of bowing and chatter, and ProfessorSchillingschen looking on with an air of owning litter, porters, township, boma, and all. As we turned our backs on them they startedoff toward the neat white dwelling on the hill. 

The court was a round, grass- roofed affair, with white-washed walls ofsun-dried brick. For about four-fifths of the circumference the wallwas barely breast-high, the roof being supported on wooden pillarsbricked into the wall, as well as by the huge pole that propped it upumbrella-wise in the center. 

The remaining fifth of the wall continued up as high as the roof, forming a back to the platform. Facing the platform was the entrance, and on either side benches arranged in rows followed the curve of thewall. There was a long table on the platform, at which sat thelieutenant who had summoned us, with a sergeant seated on either hand. The sergeants were acting as court clerks, scribbling busily on sheetsof blue paper, and in books. 

Behind the lieutenant, in a great gilt frame on the white-washed wall, was a full-length portrait of the Kaiser in general's uniform. TheKaiser was depicted scowling, his gloved hands resting on a saberalmost as ferocious-looking as the one the lieutenant kept winding hisleg around. 

All the benches were crowded with spectators, prisoners, witnesses, andlitigants. Outside, at least two hundred Arabs, Indians, and nativesleaned with elbows on the wall and gazed at the scene within. Thelieutenant glared, but otherwise took no notice of our entry; he gaveno order, but one of the two sergeants came down from the platform andkicked half a dozen natives off the front bench to make room for us. 

We were mistaken in supposing our case would be called first, or evenamong the first. The floor in the midst of the court was clear exceptfor a long single line of natives and six askari corporals, each with awhip in his hand. It was evident at once that these natives were allahead of us, even if those on the benches were not to be heard anddealt with before our turn came. 

"Look at the far end of the line!" whispered Fred. 

Lo and behold Kazimoto, looking rather drawn and gray, but standingbravely, looking neither to the right nor left. I judged he knew wewere in court--he could hardly have failed to notice our coming in--buthe sturdily refused to turn his head and see us. 

"What has he done?" I wondered. 

"Nothing more than told some Heinie to go to hell--you can bet yourboots!" said Will. 

The lieutenant was in no hurry to enlighten us. Our boy stood at thewrong end of the line to be taken first. The lieutenant called a name, and two great askaris pounced on the trembling native at the other endand dragged him forward, leaving him standing alone before the desk. 

"Silence!" the lieutenant shouted, and the court became still as death. 

He had a voice as mean as a hyena's--a voice that matched his face. The insolent, upturned twist of his fair mustache showed both cornersof a thin-lipped mouth. He had the Prussian head, shaped squarewhichever way you viewed it. There was strength in thejaw-bones--strength in the deep-set bright eyes--strength in theshoulders that were square as box-corners without any padding--strengthin the lean lithe figure; but it was always brute strength. There wasno moral strength whatever in the restless fidgeting--the savagewinding and unwinding of his left foot around the saber scabbard, orthe attitude, leaning forward over the table, of petulant pugnacity. And the cruel voice was as weak as the hand was strong with which herapped on the table. 

He questioned the boy in front of him sharply--told him he stoodcharged with theft--and demanded an answer. 

"With theft of what thing, and whose thing?"

The answer was bold. The trembling had ceased. Now that he facednemesis the strength of native fatalism came to his rescue, bolsteringup the pride that every uncontaminated Nyamwezi owns. He was not morethan seventeen years old, but he stood there at last like a veteran atbay. 

"Put him down and beat him!" ordered the lieutenant. 

"Impudent answers to this court shall always be soundly punished! Callthe next case while that one is being taught good manners. 

A woman was stood in front of the line, fidgety with fear, in doubtwhether to lay her suckling baby on the bench before she faced militaryjustice. She laid it on the floor at her feet, hesitated, and thenpicked it up again and wrapped it in a corner of the red blanket thatconstituted her only dress. 

"Take that brat away from her!" the lieutenant ordered. "She must payattention to me. With that in her arms she will only think ofmothering!"

An askari seized the baby by the arm and leg and gave it with a laughto another woman to hold, its mother whimpering with fright until shesaw it safely nestled. 

"Quick, now! What about this one?"

It seemed there was no charge against her. The two sergeants searchedthrough the piles of blue sheets in vain. 

"Then what the devil is she here for? What do you want, you?"

The trembling woman pointed to her baby, but was dumb. It neededcourage to answer that lieutenant, and the crack--crack--crack of athick kiboko descending at measured intervals on the naked back of theboy who had answered boldly was no help toward reassurance. 

"Speak!" the lieutenant ordered, "or I shall have you compelled tospeak!"

She burst into sudden volubility. The dam once down, she poured fortha catalogue of wrongs that seemed endless, switching off from onedialect to another and at intervals inserting, apropos apparently ofnothing, the few words of German she had picked up. The lieutenantyelled for an interpreter, and a Nyamwezi who knew German rose from thefront bench and came and stood beside her. 

"That baby is a white man's, " he explained. 

"What does she want?"

"She says the white man is the bwana dakitari (the doctor!). "

"Oh! Then I am glad she came here. It is time these loose women weretaught a lesson! They tell the same tale. They say a white man passedthrough the village, gave their father a present, and carried them off. Is that her tale, too?"

"Yes. "

"Well--what of it? The father agreed at the time when he accepted thepresent, didn't he? The consequence is a baby--not for the first time! Instead of going back to her village, she comes here and tries toblackmail the officer! She is young. It's the first time she has beenin this court. This time I will be lenient. One hundred lashes!"

The interpreter translated, and the woman screamed. An askari seizedher by the shoulders. She clung to him, but he threw her to theground, and another one tore off the blanket that would have deadenedthe blows to some extent. She begged, and clung to their feet, but theblows began to rain on her, and presently she lay still, her breastsflattened against the earth floor, her mouth full of dust, and hernaked body paralyzed by fear of the descending lash. 

"Now bring up number one again!" the lieutenant ordered. 

The askaris ceased from flogging him. One of them kicked him to hisfeet, and he resumed his stand in front of the lieutenant, looking upat him as proudly as ever, for all that his back was bruised and bloody. 

"Did you steal or did you not?" asked the lieutenant. 

"Steal what from whom?"

"Oh, go on beating him! Next case!"

The next man escaped the whip, but his witnesses were lessfortunate. He brought two men and a woman with him to prove an alibion a charge of attempted theft, and the glibness of their answersconvinced the lieutenant they were lying. In the absence of allevidence for the prosecution except the unsupported word of a policeaskari who admitted a personal grudge against the defendant, thelieutenant resorted to the whip to change the witnesses' convictions, but without avail. 

The woman yelled under the lash like a demented thing, but, far fromwithdrawing her statements, tried to spit in the lieutenant's face whenjerked to her feet and stood again before him--an impossible featbecause the platform on which he sat at the table was too high. He hadher beaten a second time for spitting. 

The next man was a fat Baganda from British territory, charged withtrading without a license. He pleaded ignorance of the law, and deniedhaving traded. He was flogged for telling lies in court, and changedhis testimony under the lash, whereat he was promptly sentenced to ahundred and fifty lashes and a month on the chain-gang. Under the lasha second time, he recanted--swore that his first statements had beentrue and that he had done no trading--a mistake in tactics that onlycaused the tale of lashes to be increased by fifty and the term on thechain-gang to be doubled. 

"You must learn that the methods taught you on British territory are ofno use here!" remarked the lieutenant. 

By the time Kazimoto was called and stood out alone in front of him thelieutenant was in a boiling rage, and the floor of the court wasactually crowded by prone natives being beaten. Extra askaris had beensent for in order that proceedings might not be delayed, and theaudience could scarcely hear the evidence and sentences because of thecrack of whips and the moans of victims. (Not that they all moaned byany means. By far the most of them submitted to the torture in grimproud silence: but the few who did make a noise--especially thewomen--made lots of it. )

As Kazimoto faced the lieutenant he turned once and looked at us. Hiseyes sought Fred's. 

"Oh, bwana!" he said--and now for the first time we learned why he hadchosen Fred to be his particular master. "I have been faithful!Stroke, then, that beard of yours as Bwana Courtney, my former master, used to stroke his. Then we shall both know what to do!"

Fred stroked his beard promptly, for the man needed comfort, notridicule: but the concession to his superstition did none of us anygood. 

"Face this way!" the lieutenant shouted at him. "You are charged withbeing a deserter from German service. Also with giving information toforeigners. Also with serving foreigners in their effort to exploitthe country, and with refusing to give proper answers when questionedby those in authority. Do you understand?"

"No, " said Kazimoto in the most melancholy tone I ever heard from him. 

"Are you a Nyamwezi? Now don't dare to lie to me!"

"Yes. "

"You were born in this country?"

"Yes. "

"Then you belong in this country!"

"I belong where my master takes me. My spirit is good. I am a trueman, " Kazimoto answered. 

"Your spirit is rotten! You are a traitor! What do you mean bytalking to me of your master, you reptile! Your master is the Germangovernment, of which His Majesty the Kaiser is supreme overlord! Thereis a picture of your master!" He pointed with a thumb over hisshoulder to the full-length atrocity in oils behind him. "Salute it!"

The boy obeyed. 

"Answer now! Who is your master?"

Kazimoto hesitated. 

"Answer, I order you!"

He turned and pointed a finger at Fred, who nodded. 

"That English bwana is my master, " he said stoutly. It was a forlornhope, though. He did not seem to believe that the statement of factwould do him any good. 

Fred jumped to his feet. 

"That is perfectly correct, " he said in English. "The boy is myservant, engaged on British territory, under a contract for wages to bepaid in English money. He is to be paid off in British East at the endof my journey. "

"Who asked you to speak?" demanded the lieutenant angrily, sitting uplike a startled scorpion. "Do you not know this is a court?"

"It looks like a shambles!" Fred answered, glancing to right and leftand indicating the victims of the whip writhing in the name of Germanjustice. 

"Shut up, you fool!" counseled Will in a stage whisper, but either Freddid not hear him, or was too worked up to care. 

"Silence! Sit down!"

"I warn you!" Fred answered. "That boy has claimed British protection. I shall see he has it!"

Then he sat down. The lieutenant glared at Kazimoto, the glarechanging to a cold grin as he realized how fully we were all at hismercy for the moment. 

"You are sentenced, " he said, "to two hundred lashes for makingimpudent answers to the court, and to six months on the chain-gang fordeserting from this country and entering foreign service. Furtherevidence against you will be assembled in the meanwhile, and othercharges against you will be tried on completion of the chain-gangsentence!"

"I protest!" shouted Fred, jumping up again. "I give notice of appealto whatever higher court there is. I am ready to give bonds!"

"What does this delay mean?" snapped the lieutenant. "Put him down atonce and lay the lashes on!"

The unfortunate Kazimoto was pounced on by two askaris and thrownface-downward on the floor. One of them tore off his clothes, rippingup his good English jacket. 

"Did you hear my protest?" shouted Fred. "Did you hear my notice ofappeal?"

"I did, " said the lieutenant. "Appeals are heard at the coast. Youmust give notice by mail, and receive an acknowledgment from the highermilitary court before I grant stay of execution. Lay on the lashes!"

"I will hold you personally liable for this outrage, " Fred told him, "if it costs me all my money and all the rest of my years! I defy youto continue!"

"You have yourself to blame!" the lieutenant grinned. "But for youruninvited interruption the Nyamwezi would have had a better hearing!Lay those lashes on harder and more slowly!"

Kazimoto was taking his gruel like a man. Two askaris were beatinghim. The blows fell at random anywhere below the neck and above theheels, raising a great welt where they did not actually cut the skin. He had buried his face in his forearms, and Will had gone to stand nearhim, stooping down to encourage him with any words at all that mightseem to serve. 

"Stick it out, Kazi! We'll stand by! We won't leave you down here!Remember you've got friends who won't desert you!"

Probably in his agony Kazimoto did not understand a word of it, but thelieutenant did, --and swiftly took steps to interfere. 

"Call the Europeans' cases next!" he shouted, and promptly the Germansergeants stepped down from the platform to marshal us in line. Thelieutenant went through the form of studying the blue papers, andcalled out our names. That of Brown was included, but Brown was not incourt and we were kept standing there until he had been fetched fromhis tent. He had retired immediately after the hanging to sleep offthe effects of his debauch, and being now deprived of that luxuryarrived between two askaris in a volcanic temper. He insulted thelieutenant to begin with. 

"A diet o' beer an' sausage don't seem to have filled you full o' goodmanners, do it?"

The lieutenant scowled, but for the moment chose to ignore thepleasantry. 

"You people are charged, " he said, "with entering German territoryotherwise than by a regular road and without reporting at a customsstation. Further, with intending to defraud the customs--with carryingand possessing arms without a license--with being in possession ofammunition without a permit--with shooting game without a license--withfilibustering--with intentional homicide, in that you shot and killedcertain men of the Masai tribe within German territory--with wanderingat large without permits and with felonious intent; and last, and thisis the most serious charge, with being spies within the militarymeaning of that term. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

We were dumb. Even the crack of the heavy whips on poor Kazimoto'sskin ceased to make impression on us. Suffering already from my woundto the point of nausea, I actually reeled before this new deluge oftrouble, and had to hold on to Fred and Will. They each put an armunder mine. It was Brown who spoke and stole from our sails whatlittle wind there might have been. 

"Decline to plead!" he shouted boisterously. "You're no judge, you'rea pirate! You're not fit to try natives, let alone white men! You'rea disgrace, that's what you are! All you're fit for is to make adecent fellow glad he needn't know you!"

"Silence!" roared the lieutenant, banging on the table with his openpalm--then with his fist--then with a mallet. 

"Silence yourself!" retorted Brown as soon as the hammering ceased. "You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Your court's a bally disgrace, an' you're the worst thing in it! You and your Kaiser can go to hell, and be damned to both of you!"

"One month in jail for contempt of court and Majestaets-beleidigung!"snapped the lieutenant. "Take him away!"

Quite clearly that was not the first time that a white man had beenimprisoned in Muanza. There was no hesitation about the way in whichan askari seized Brown's wrists or a sergeant snapped the handcuffs. He was hustled out expostulating, kicked on the shins by the sergeantwhen he faced about to argue, and shoved into a run by both sergeantand askari. 

"You others would better be careful what you say!" said the lieutenant. 

"I've a mind to share Brown's cell!" said Will, but the lieutenantaffected not to hear that. 

"Since you refuse to plead in this court, you shall be held until thearrival of Major Schunck from the coast. Your arms and ammunition areto be handed over to the askaris, who will be sent to the rest-camp toreceive them. The askaris will search your belongings thoroughly tomake sure they have all your weapons. You are ordered confined withinthe limits of this township, and if you are detected making any attemptto trespass outside township limits you will be confined as the Greeksare within the rest-camp under observation. The porters you broughtinto the country are all to be paid their full wages by you until MajorSchunck shall have dealt with you; the porters are refused permissionto leave Muanza, being needed as witnesses. Next case!"

He scrawled his signature at the foot of each sheet of blue paper, andmade a motion with his arm that we should leave court. But we sat downand waited until the two Nubian giants had finished flogging Kazimoto, and when they dragged him to his feet Will and Fred walked over to givehim a few words of comfort. That act of ordinary kindness threw thelieutenant into another fury. 

"Bring the Nyamwezi here!" he ordered, and the askaris hustled him upin front of the table. 

"What do you do? Have you no manners? Return proper thanks for thelesson you have received!"

Kazimoto stood silent. 

"For God's sake--" Will began. 

"Say 'Thank you' to him, Kazimoto!" Fred whispered. 

There is no native word for "Thank you"--only a bastard thingintroduced by tyrants from Europe who never understood the Africancontention that the giver rewards himself if his gift is worth anythingat all. 

"Asente, " said Kazimoto meekly. 

"Why don't you salute? Don't you know where you are?"

"For the love of God salute him!" Will almost shouted. 

Kazimoto obeyed. 

"Take him and put him on the chain-gang!" ordered the lieutenant. "YouEuropeans leave the court!"

"I'm no European!" Will shouted back. "Thank the Lord I was born in acountry you'll never set foot in!"

"Take them away before I have to make an example of them!" thelieutenant ordered. 

Obediently the askaris gathered about us and hustled us out into theopen, poking at my bandaged wound to get swifter action, and going asfar as to threaten us with their hippo-hide whips. I trod on the nakedtoe of one of them with sufficient suddenness and weight to deprive himof the use of it for all time, and luckily for me he did not see whodid it. The askari next to him had boots on, and got the blame. 

The black men who were to search our belongings tried to induce us tohurry, but we insisted on seeing the iron ring riveted to Kazimoto'sneck. The ring had a shackle on it, and through that they passed thelong chain that held him prisoner in the midst of a gang of forty men. Nobody washed the wounds on his back. We bought water from a woman whowas passing with a great jar on her head, and did that much for him. He was naked. His clothes that the askaris had torn from him had beenthrown outside the court, and some one had stolen them. Later theygave him a piece of cheap calico to bind round his waist, but duringall that hot afternoon he had nothing to keep the sun from his torturedback; nor would they permit us to give him anything. 

The mortification of having one's private belongings gone through byblack men in uniform was made more exasperating still by the fact thatCoutlass and the other Greek and the Goanese were spectators, amusingthemselves with comments that came nearer to causing murder than theyguessed. 

The real motive of the search was evident within two minutes from thecommencement. The askaris could not read, but they showed a mostremarkable affinity for paper that had been written on. They took theguns and ammunition first, but after that they emptied everything fromour bags and boxes on to the sand, and confiscated every scrap ofpaper, shaking our books to make sure nothing was left between theleaves. 

They even took away our writing material in their zeal to findinformation likely to prove useful to their masters. But they forgotto search our pockets, so that they overlooked the letter we hadwritten in code to Monty and had not yet sent away by messenger. 

That letter became our most besetting problem. How to find a runnerwho would take it to British East and mail it for us up there withoutbetraying us first to the Germans was something we could not guess. Even Fred grew gloomy when we realized there was probably not a nativeon the whole countryside with sufficient manhood left in him to daremake the attempt. The first overture we might make would almostcertainly be reported to the commandant at once. 

"What fools we were not to send Kazimoto with it when he begged us to!"

"What worse than fools!"

"What brutes! Think what we might have saved him!"

We were unanimous as to that, but unanimity brought no comfort, untilwe all together hit on a notion that did ease our feelings a trifle. Coutlass and his two friends were sitting on camp-stools in the openwhere they could have a full view of our doings. Assuming thecamping-ground to be equally divided between their party and ours, theywere well within our portion. We decided their curiosity was insolent, declared inexorable war, and there and then felt better. 

Fred went out with a tent-peg and scored in the sand a deep line todenote our boundary, the Greeks watching, all eyes and guesswork. 

"Over the other side with you!" Fred ordered when he had finished. 

They refused. He charged at them, and they ran. 

"Whichever of you, man or servant, sets foot on our side of that lineshall be a dead-sure hospital case!" Fred announced. "We'llreciprocate by leaving your side of the camp to you!"

"Who made you men rulers of this rest-camp?" Coutlass demanded. 

"We did, " Fred answered. "We've lost our rifles just as you have. We'll fight you with bare hands and skin you alive if you trespass!"

"Gassharamminy!" shouted Coutlass. "By hell and Waterloo, you mistakeme for a weakling! Wait and see!"

We had to wait a very long and weary time, but we did see. In the daysthat followed, when my wound festered and I grew too ill to drag myselfabout, Fred and Will were able to leave me alone in the camp withoutany fear of a visit from the Greeks. It was not that there was muchleft worth stealing, but a mere visit from them might have hadconsequences we could never have offset. Alone, unable to rise, Icould not have forced them to leave, and their lingering would surelyhave been interpreted by the guard, who always watched them from thecorner of the road, as evidence of collusion of some sort between themand us. 

Just at that time Coutlass, as it happened, would have liked nothingbetter in the world than the chance to persuade the Germans that he wasin our councils. Fred's mere irritable determination to divide thecamp in halves saved us in all human probability from a trap out ofwhich there would have been no escape. 

CHAPTER NINE

"SPEAK YE, AND SO DO"

Ok Thou, who gavest English speech To both our Anglo-Saxon breeds, And didst adown all ages teach That Art of crowning words with deeds, May we, who use the speech, be blest With bravery, that when shall comeIn thy full time our hour of test - That promised hour of Christendom, We may be found, whate'er our need, How grim soe'er our circumstance, Unwilling to be fed or freed, Or fame or fortune to enhanceBy flinching from the good begun, By broken word or serpent plan, Or cruelty in malice done To helpless beast or subject man. Amen

There was method, of course, behind the difference in treatmentextended to us and to the Greeks. The motive for making Coutlass sellhis mules and stay within the miserable confines of the rest-camp wasto make sure be had money enough to feed himself, and to cut off allopportunity for swift escape. Not for a second were the Germanssufficiently unwary to admit collusion with him. 

The real ownership of the three mules was left in little doubt whenthey were sold at public auction and bought in by Schillingschen. Fredand Will attended the auction the day following our scene in court, andextracted a lot of amusement from bidding against Schillinschen, compelling him finally to pay a good sum more than the mules were worth. 

Coutlass was in a strange predicament. The looting of Brown's cattlehad been a bid for fortune on his own account. Yet by causing us togive chase he had brought us into the German net more handily than everthey had hoped. So it was reasonable on his part to suppose that if hecould betray us more completely still, he might get rewarded instead oftreated as a broken tool. 

Yet he did not dare to approach our camp, for fear lest Fred shouldcarry out his threat and fight. The fight would certainly be reportedby the askari on watch at the crossroads, and that would destroy hischance of making believe to be in our confidence. So he kept sendingnotes to me when the others were absent, even the native boy whobrought them--not daring to enter our camp, but fastening the messageto a stone and throwing it in through the tent door. 

They were strange, illiterate messages, childishly conceived, varyingbetween straight-out offers to help us escape and dark insinuationsthat he knew of something it would pay us well to investigate. 

It was an English missionary spending three days in Muanza on his wayto Lake Tanganika, who came to see what he could do for my wound andcleared up the mystery quite a little by reporting what he had heard inthe non-commissioned mess, where he had been invited to eat a meal. 

"The Greek, " he said, "is trying to curry favor by pretending he knowsyour plans. If he succeeds in worming into your confidence andpersuading you to make plans to escape with him, they will feeljustified in putting you in jail--and that, I understand, is where theywant you. "

"Will you do me a favor?" I asked. 

He hesitated. It was kindness that had sent him down to ease my pain, if possible, not anti-Germanism; it was part of German policy to poseas the friend of all missionaries, and if anything he was prejudicedagainst us--particularly against Brown, whom he had visited in jail, and who assured him the only hymn he ever sang was "Beer, gloriousbeer!"

"That depends, " he answered. 

"We are quite sure any letters we write will be opened, " I said. 

He answered that he could hardly believe that. 

"If we could send a letter unopened to British East it would solve ourworst problem, " I told him. "If you know of a dependable messenger whowould carry our letter, I would contribute fifty pounds out of my ownpocket to the funds of your mission. "

I made a mistake there, and realized it the next moment. 

"What kind of letter is worth fifty pounds?" he asked me. "Isn't itsomething illegal that you fear might get you into worse trouble ifopened and read?"

I argued in vain, and only made my case worse by citing as an instanceof German official turpitude the staff surgeon's neglect of me. 

"But be tells me you refuse to be treated by him!" he answered. "Hesays you enter his hospital and are insolent if he happens to be toobusy to attend to you at once. He says you refuse to let a nativeorderly dress your wound!"

He had been entertained to one meal at the commandant's house on thebill, and regaled by awful accounts of our ferocity. I did not succeedin inserting as much as the thin end of a different view until he askedme how a man's name could be professor Schillingschen and his wife'sLady Isobel Saffren Waldon. 

"I don't understand about titles, " he said. "Shouldn't she take hisname, or else he hers, or something?"

I assured him that marriage had never as much as entered the head ofeither of them. 

"They're simply living together, " I said. "He's a cynical brute. She'sa designing female!"

The missionary mind recoiled and refused to believe me. But after hehad thought the matter over and seen the probability, he swung over toa sort of lame admission that a few more of my statements might perhapsbe true. 

"I will take your letter and guarantee its delivery in British East, provided I may read it and do not disapprove of its contents. " hevolunteered. 

"That's not unreasonable, " I said, "but the letter is in code. "

"I should have to see it decoded. "

I told him to find Fred and Will. He came on them sitting smokingunder the great rock near the waterfront that bad been inset with abronze medallion of Bismarck, and startled them almost into committingan assault on him, by saying that he wanted our secret code at once. They had been trying to get tobacco to Brown, and sweetmeats toKazimoto, had failed in both efforts and were short-tempered. Heexplained after they had insulted him sufficiently, and they walkeddown to the camp one on either hand, apologizing all the way. Iimagine they had criticized missions of all denominations prettythoroughly. 

In the end he decided not to read the letter at all. 

"I have reached the conclusion you three men are gentlemen, " he said, "and would not take advantage of me. I will take your letter to Ujiji, and send it to the south end of Lake Tanganika, to be put in theBritish mail bag for Mombasa by way of Durban. It will take a longtime to reach its destination--perhaps two months; but I will have itregistered, and it will undoubtedly get there. "

That he kept his word and better we had ample proof later on, but I didnot bless him particularly fervidly at the time, for he went straightto the doctor and repeated my complaints. He left for Ujiji the nextday, and the net result of his friendly interference was that thedoctor refused me any sort of attention at all--even a change ofbandages. 

Fred and Will did their best for me, but it was little. I read intheir faces, and in their studied cheerfulness when speaking in mypresence, that they had made up their minds I was going to lose thenumber of my mess. They went to the commandant and the lieutenantbesides the doctor in efforts to secure for me some sort ofconsideration, but without result; and they wrote at least six lettersto the British East African Protectorate government that we ascertainedafterward never reached their destination. They tried to register oneletter, but registration was refused. 

"Why don't they jail us simply, and have done with it?"--Will keptwondering aloud. 

"They will when it suits their books, " said I. "For the present theyscarcely dare. Word might reach the British government. They'rebreaking no international law by holding us here and keeping tabs onus. "

Before many days I grew unable to leave the hard cork mattress on thecamp-bed in Fred's tent. They went again to the commandant, this timedetermined to force the issue. 

"I will send some one, " he told them, and they came away delighted thatstrong language should succeed where politeness formerly had failed. 

But all the commandant did send was an askari twice a day, to lean onhis rifle in the tent door, leer at me, and march away again. 

"He comes to see if I'm dead, " said I. "It would be inconvenient tohave me die in jail; there might be inquiries afterward from BritishEast. After I'm dead and buried they'll jail you two healthy ones, andkeep you until you 'blab'!"

"Why don't we straight out tell 'em we don't know a thing about theivory?" wondered Will. 

"Because they wouldn't believe us!" Fred answered. 

Seven days after the sentry's first call the doctor took to coming inperson to look at me. He never except once stepped inside the tent, but was satisfied to give me a glance of contempt and go away again, once or twice taking pains to inspect the Greeks' camp before leaving. He usually had Schubert trailing in his wake, and gave him stern ordersabout sanitation which nobody ever carried out. The sanitaryconditions of that rest-camp were simply non-existent until we camethere, and we had gone to no pains on the Greeks' account. 

But the Greeks did us an unexpected good turn, though it looked likemaking more trouble for us at the time. They began to complain of lackof exercise, and to grow actually sick for want of it. Because ofthat, and jealousy, they raised a clamor about our freedom to goanywhere within township limits as against their strict confinement tothe camp. The commandant came down to the camp in person to hear whatthey had to say, and being in a good humor saw fit to yield a point. Being a military German, though, he could not do it without attachingignominious conditions. 

There was a band attached to the local company of Sudanese--an affairconsisting of four native war-drums and two fifes. They knew eightbars of one tune, and were proud of it, the fifers blowing with beefand pluck and the drummers thundering native fashion, which means thatthe only difference between their noise and a thunder-storm was in thetempo. 

Day after day, twice a day, whether it rained or shone, it seemed to bethe law that this "band" should patrol the whole township limits, playing its only tune, lifting the tops of men's heads with itsinfernal drumming, and delighting nobody except the players and thetownship urchins, who marched in its wake rejoicing. 

The Greeks and the Goanese were given leave to march with the bandtwice a day for the sake of exercise. They refused indignantly. Thecommandant flew into the rage that is the birthright of all Germanofficials, but suddenly checked himself; he had a brilliant idea. 

He withdrew the permission and changed it to an order that Coutlass andhis two friends should march with the band twice daily for the sake oftheir health, on pain of imprisonment should they refuse. 

"And I will prove to you, " he said, "that the good German rule isimpartial. All aliens awaiting trial and confined within the townshiplimits shall march with the band if they are able!" As an afterthoughthe added magnanimously: "Those in the jail, too, provided they havenot been sentenced for serious crimes!"

So Coutlass, his Greek friend, the Goanese, Fred, Will, and Brown ofLumbwa marched about the town twice daily, at seven in the morning andthree in the afternoon, a journey of five miles, Fred and Will makingno objection because it gave them a chance to talk with Brown. Therewere strict orders against talking, and four askaris armed with riflesmarched behind to enforce the rule as well as keep guard over Brown. But the drums were so thunderous and the shrill fifes so lusty that theaskaris could not hear conversation pitched in low tones. 

"Brown says, " said Fred, returning from the first march, "that hesleeps with only a sheet of corrugated iron between him and the wardwhere the chain-gang lies. He can talk with Kazimoto when be happensto be at that end of the chain. They've nothing but planks to lie on, any of them. He says Kazimoto seems determined to kill the lieutenantwho sentenced him, and as soon as he's off the chain we'd better grabhim and hurry him out of the country. "

"Six months!" said I. "Splendid advice! How many of us will be aliveor at liberty six months from now? Not I, at any rate!"

"How d'you suppose they discipline the chain-gang?" Fred asked, ignoring my growing hopelessness. 

"With the lash, " said I. "I've seen!"

"That's by day, " said Fred. "They've better ways at night. One planis no supper or breakfast; but the champion scheme is the doctor's. On complaint by the askaris that a man on the chain has shirked hiswork, or answered back, or been obstreperous, the doctor serves him outa handful of strong pills and sees him swallow them. They don'tunchain them at night. D'you get the idea?"

"Not yet. "

"Every time the man has to go outside he must wake the whole gang andtake them with him! They're weary after working twelve hours at astretch. After the second or third time up they begin to object prettystrenuously. After the third or fourth time he's so unpopular thathe'd almost rather die than wake them. Imagine the result, and what hesuffers!"

Despondency began to have hold of me, and I no longer wished to live. The doctor's momentary daily visits increased my loathing for the crewwho tyrannized there in the name of Progress, and I could see no way ofretaliating. I became seized with a sort of delirious conviction thatif only I could die and be out of the way my friends would be farbetter able to contrive without me. There is no convalescence in amood of that sort, and each morning found me nearer death than thelast. Then malaria developed, to give me the finishing touch, andalthough strangely enough I grew less instead of more delirious, Fredand Will at last made no secret of their belief that I was doomed. 

I myself was as sure of death as they were of dinner, and had betterappetite for my fate than they for the meal, when one morning thedoctor came earlier than usual. He had Schubert with him, and theyboth peered through the tent door. I was alone, for Fred and Will werein the other tent. The doctor stepped inside and examined me closely, drawing up the mosquito net to see my face. I did not trouble to speakto him, or even to open my eyes after the first glimpse. He spoke toSchubert in German, let the net fall again, and went away. Schubertspat and rubbed his hands, and swung along after him. 

Then I heard Will and Fred arguing. 

"Don't be a fool!" That was Fred's voice. 

"I tell you I'll tell him!"

"Fine thing to tell a poor devil that's dying! Let him die in peace!"

"No. He has guts, for I've seen him use 'em. I shall tell him. Youwait here!"

But they both came in, and sat one on either side of my bed. 

"Did you hear what that doctor person said to the sergeant-major?"asked Will. 

"I don't talk his beastly language, " I answered. 

"He said you'll be dead by this evening! He told Schubert to go andget the chain-gang and have them dig your grave at noon instead oflaying off for dinner. He added they'll have you buried and out of theway by four or five o'clock. Then Schubert asked him--"

"No need to tell him that!" Fred objected. But Will was watching myface keenly, and went on. 

"Schubert asked him who was to say whether you are dead or not. Whatd'you suppose the answer was?"

Fred objected again, but Will waved him aside. 

"The answer he gave Schubert was: 'Once he is covered with two metersof earth, I shall not hesitate to sign a certificate!'--So now you knowwhat to expect!"

Will smiled as he watched me. His face was as keen and calm as Fred'swas troubled. 

"Take more than his guesswork to put you where he'd like to haveyou--eh?" he laughed. And I sat up. 

Fred began to grin too. "You were right, Will!" he admitted. 

It was not anger that swept over me and gave me new strength. Anger, Ithink, would have hastened the end. It was sudden recognition of myown superiority to the devils who knew so little mercy. It was simpleinability in the last recourse to admit myself able to be their victim. Even my leg felt better. I demanded food; and by the time theyreturned from their morning march around the township I had made my boydress me and was sitting up. 

We dated the turn of the tide of our fortunes from that hour. Certainly from that day we began to prosper--at first gradually, butafter a while in the old swift way that had made all our ventures withMonty such amazingly amusing work

We saw the chain-gang--Kazimoto last, with a shovel over hisshoulder--march away at noon to dig me a grave in the sand close towhere they burned the township refuse. Fred and Will went and watchedthem a while, contriving to slip a paper of snuff into Kazimoto's handwhile he rested and let the pick-men labor. (Snuff to a Nyamwezi is ascomforting as an old sweet pipe to nine white men out of ten. )

When Schubert came that evening at five with an old sack to put my bodyin, and plenty of askaris to help decide disputes, I was standing up. He could not very well make even himself believe that a man who couldspeak and walk was dead, but he could be immensely enraged by what hewas pleased to call my schweinspiel. * He cursed me in every language heknew, including several native ones, and ended by threatening to makesure of me before going to so much trouble a second time. [*Literally, pig-play. ]

We enraged him still further by laughing at him, and Fred got out hisconcertina that for many days past had lain idle. The first few notesof it made me realize more than any other thing could have done whatdepths of despondency we must have plumbed, for hitherto, for as longas I had known Fred, he had always been able with that weird instrumentof his to rouse his own spirits and so stir the rest of us. He resumedold habits now, and gloom departed. 

That evening I went to bed like a new man, and for the first night forlong weeks slept until dawn, awaking hungry. My leg began to mend. Weall saw the absurdity, if nothing else, of the treatment meted out tous, based on no better grounds than our supposed possession of asecret. Laughter brought good hope. Hope gave us courage, and courageset Fred and Will hunting for a means of escape. We decided there andthen that to wait for this Major Schunck to come from the coast andpass judgment on us was a ridiculous waste of time as well as highlydangerous. 

The first discovery Fred and Will made was that there were footholdscut in the great granite rock in which the Bismarck medallion was set. They climbed it, and discovered that from the summit they could see allMuanza harbor from the shore line to the island in the distance. Sitting up there, they presently spotted a native dhow drawn up withbow to the beach with the indefinable, yet unescapable air of ratherlong disuse. 

Resisting the first temptation to hurry along the shore and examine it, they returned to camp to tell me of the find, and sent Simba, Kazimoto's understudy, to find out whose the dhow was and why it laythere. They explained it was a fairly big dhow, and might be laid upthere on account of leakiness. 

But Simba came back grinning with the news that the dhow belonged to anIndian from British East who had been jailed for smuggling. The dhowhad been sold to pay his court fine, and was now owned by a Punjabi whohad bought it as a speculation and repented already of his bargain, because the Germans would grant him no license to use it and nobodyelse would buy. 

They went off again to have another distant view of it and to try andinvent some means of inspecting it closely without betraying theirpurpose. I was already able to walk with the aid of a stick, althoughnot fast enough to keep up with them, and curiosity taking hold of me Icalled two of our servants to give me a supporting arm and limped offto see the grave the chain-gang had recently dug for me. 

It was a struggle to get there, but it seemed to me the trip was worthit. I found the grave about a foot too short, but otherwisecommensurate, and sat down on a stone beside it to consider a number ofthings. A convalescent man sitting beside his own grave may beforgiven for amusing himself with a lot of near-philosophy, and if Itrespassed over the borders of common sense on that occasion I claim itwas not without excuse. 

My meditations were disturbed by the arrival on the scene of the verylast man I expected. We had been told that Professor Schillingschenhad gone out on a journey, leaving his "wife" in the care of thecommandant; yet I looked up suddenly to see him standing on the otherside of the grave with both hands in the pockets of his knickerbockersand a grin of malevolent amusement showing through the tangled mass ofhair that hid his lower face. 

"Yours?" he asked. 

I nodded. 

"A close call! I have seen closer! I have stood so close to the brinkof death that the width of an eyelash would have damned me!"

"Piffle!" I answered rudely. "How can the already damned be damnedagain?"

He laughed. 

"You are sick still. You are petulant. Never mind. I was coming tocall on you. I watched you leave the camp from the top of that hillbehind you, and followed. It is better. We can talk here withoutbeing overheard. Send those natives away!"

"Certainly not!" I answered, but I reckoned without the professor andthe fear his hairy presence instilled in them. 

"Go!" he said simply in the native tongue; and although I ordered themat once to stay by me they ran back to the camp as fast as their legscould carry them. 

"How do you feel now?" the professor asked. 

I stared at him, wondering just what he meant. 

"I mean, without a pistol!"

I saw the point. The rest-camp was not far away, but as far as I couldjudge we were quite out of sight from it, and unless there shouldhappen to be some one hiding among the rocks at the foot of the hillbehind me we were quite alone, unless, as was probable, he had placedone or two of his own hangers-on in hiding within call. 

"This grave should be a lesson to you!" he grinned. 

"It has been, " I answered. 

"An illustration, " he suggested. 

"A period, " said I. 

"To your youth?" he asked maliciously. "To the age of folly?"

"To the time, " I said, "when any man could blackmail me. I would gointo that grave ten times rather than tell you what you want to know!"

"There are worse places than the grave!" he said, beginning to leersavagely. His eyes glittered. He could scarcely find patience forargument. The thin veneer of his first mock-friendliness was goneutterly. 

"I imagine that German colonial life is far worse than death, " said I. 

"German will be the only rule in Africa, " he answered. "You fools ofEnglish have set your hopes on the Christian missionary. Noweaker-backed camel could exist! The German Michael is wiser! Islamis the key to the native mind--Islam and the lash--they understandthat! In a few years there will be nothing in Africa that is notGerman from core to epidermis! As to whether you shall live to seethat day or not depends on yourself, my young friend!"

Being quite sure that he had a plan in mind that nothing would preventhim from unfolding, I did not waste effort or words on prompting him, but sat still. My silence and apparent lack of curiosity disturbedhim; there is nothing your bully likes better than to force his victiminto a war of words. 

"I will be short and blunt with you!" he began again. "I know yourhistory! You were in Portuguese Africa with Lord Montdidier. There hecame in possession of the secret of Tippoo Tib's ivory; how, I do notyet know, but you shall tell me that presently! You and your friendscame with him to Zanzibar, where you made certain inquiries--sufficientto set the Sultan of Zanzibar by the ears. You left Zanzibar forMombasa, and for some reason that you shall also tell me presently, Lord Montdidier did not leave the ship at Mombasa but continued thevoyage toward London. Certain individuals decided that it would bebetter not to permit Lord Montdidier to reach Europe alive. There wereagents charged with the duty of attending to that. It was consideredsafest to throw him overboard into the Mediterranean; men were orderedby cable to board the ship at Suez. Yet when the ship reached Sueznobody knew anything about him! Tell me where he left the ship, andwhy!"

He glared with eyes accustomed to extorting facts from savages, depending on physical weakness so to undermine my will that I wouldgive my secret away, perhaps without knowing it. 

I lowered my eyes, not being minded to match the strength of myeye-muscles against his. The news that Monty had not reached Suez as amatter of fact made me feel physically sick. If it were true, it meantmost likely that he had been the victim of foul play, for that steamerwas not scheduled to stop anywhere before reaching the Suez Canal. Asfor the people on the ship knowing nothing about him they no doubtpreferred not to talk to strangers. That sort of news is easily keptunder cover for a while. Schillingschen grew angry at my silence, andchanged his tactics. 

"Where did he leave the ship?" he shouted--suddenly--savagely. 

I did not answer. He came round to my side of the grave, and laid aheavy clenched fist on my shoulder. It seemed to weigh like lead inthe weak condition I was in. 

"You shall tell me what Lord Montdidier is doing now, or that graveshall resemble in your imagination a bed of roses!"

He seized my neck in a grasp like iron, and squeezed it. I rosesuddenly and struck him in the stomach with my elbow. Strength hadreturned more swiftly than I had guessed, or perhaps it was indignationat the touch of his fingers. At any rate he staggered clear of me, andI thought he would assault me now in real earnest; but perhaps hesuspected me of having weapons concealed somewhere. Instead of rushingat me like an angry bull he calmed himself and laughed. 

"You are strong for a man they thought of burying!"' he said. "Nevermind! You shall see reason presently! It is well understood that youand your friends know where Tippoo Tib's ivory is hidden. You imagineyou can keep the secret. If you keep it, you shall never make use ofit, my young friend! If you choose to tell, you shall be suitablyrewarded! Come now--I thought you were going to look for it down inthese parts. I admit you fooled me. You simply made a false move todraw attention off from Lord Montdidier. Tell me where he is and whathe does--and--or--"

"And what? Or what?" I demanded, as insolently as I knew how. I sawno sense in answering him gently. 

"I will show you!"

I had begun to feel weak again, but he offered me an arm, and since heseemed in no hurry I was able to struggle along beside him. We took tothe main road and when we reached the D. O. A. G. He called for a hammockand some porters. Being carried in that way was sheer luxury after thewalk in my weak state, and I lay back feeling like a tripper onvacation. I saw Fred and Will climbing down from their observationpost on top of the Bismarck monument, but he did not notice them. 

Every German sergeant, and every askari we passed saluted us with abouttwice as much respect as I had ever seen them show the commandant; andSchillingschen returned salutes much less carefully than he, merely bya curt nod, or one raised finger. Apparently the military feared him, for when we passed the commandant, who was personally superintendingthe flogging of two natives in the market-place for not salutinghimself, he took several paces forward to make sure Schillingschenshould see his act of homage. The professor merely nodded in return, and I began to I wonder whether there was a rift in the lute ofMuanza's official good relations. Surely I hoped so. Anythingcalculated to set the Germans' garrison life at odds looked to me likethe gift of heaven!

Schillingschen, striding beside the hammock, directed our course alongthe shore-front under palm-trees, planted in stately rows withmeticulous precision. He kept far enough to one side to avoid thecharge of being seen walking with me, but from time to time tossed meremarks calculated to keep my nerves on edge. 

"What I shall show you is by way of warning!" was a remark he repeatedtwo or three times. Then: "A native can always be made to talk byflogging him. Some white men need sterner measures!"

We left the commandant's house on the hill far behind and followed thecurve of the lake shore, toward a rocky promontory with a clump ofthick jungle behind it. Fear began to get its work in, until thethought came that what he most desired was to make me afraid; then Imanaged to summon sufficient contempt for him and his tribe to regainmy nerve and once more almost enjoy the promenade. 

He halted the hammock bearers at a spot about three hundred yards awayfrom the promontory and, leaving them standing there, turned inlandwith a hand on my arm to give me support and direction. We followed apath that was fairly well marked out and trodden, but rough, andseveral times I should have fallen but for his help. My legs stillrefused any sort of strenuous duty. 

"The staff surgeon at this station is a man of ideas, " he announced aswe rounded a big rock and passed down a narrow glade in the jungle. "He is original. He is not like some of our official fools. Hestudies. "

I refused to seem curious, and walked beside him in silence. 

"He studies sleeping sickness. If he can find the key to the solutionof that scourge it will mean promotion for him. He has noticed thatthe sleeping sickness is always at its worst beside the lake, andputting two and two together like a sensible man has reached theconclusion that the disease may be propagated in some way in the bloodof these things. "

We emerged into a clearing in which a pool more than a hundred yardslong and nearly as many wide was formed naturally by a hollow in thesurface of a great sheet of granite. The pool was fed by a trickle ofwater from a jumble of rocks at one end. At the other end the bottomof the pond sloped upward gradually, so that a ramp of smooth rock wasformed, emerging out of shallow water. A stone wall had been builtabout three feet high to enclose that end of the pond, and all the wayalong both sides the granite had been broken and chipped until theedges were sheer and unclimbable. 

"Look!" he said, pointing. 

I looked and grew sick. On the ramp, half in the water and half outlay about a hundred crocodiles basking in the sun, their yellow eyesall open. They were aware of us, for they began to move slowly higherout of water as if they expected something. 

"You see that post?" asked Schillingschen. 

The stump of a dead tree that he referred to stood up nearly straightout of a crack in the rock, and a few yards above water level. Thecrocodiles all lay nose toward it, some of them twelve or fourteen feetlong, some smaller, and some very small indeed, all interested todistraction in the dead tree-trunk. 

"That is where he feeds them, " Schillingschen announced. "He hastested them for hearing, smell, and eyesight. By making fast a livinganimal to that post be has been able to convince himself that fromabout nine in the morning until five in the afternoon their senses arelimited. Only occasionally do they come and take the bait betweenthose hours. They are hungriest in the early morning just beforedaylight. Recently a large ape tied to the post at midday was notkilled and eaten until four next morning, and that is about the usualthing, although not the rule. Now my proposal is--"

He stepped back and eyed me with the coldest look of appraisal I eversickened under. I blenched at last--visibly suffered under his eye, and he liked it. 

"--that you tell your secret or be fastened to that post from noon, say, until the crocodiles make an end of you!"

He stepped back a pace farther, perhaps to gloat over my discomfort, perhaps from fear of some concealed weapon. 

"You have not much time to arrive at your decision!"

He took another pace backward. It occurred to me then that he waslooking for some one he expected. Nobody turning up, he began togather loose stones and throw them at the reptiles, driving them downinto deep water, first in ones and twos and then by dozens. Most ofthem swam away to the far side of the pool, and hid themselves where itwas deep. 

Then, panting with having run, there came a native who looked like aZulu, for he had enormous thighs and the straight up and down carriage, as well as facial characteristics. 

"You are late!" shouted Schillingschen in German "Warum? What d'yemean by it?"

The man opened his mouth wide and made grimaces. He had no tongue. Schillingschen laughed. 

"This is a servant who does no tattling in the market-place!" he said, turning again toward me. "He and I can tie you to that post easily. What do you say?"

There was nothing whatever to say, or to do except wonder how tocircumvent him, and nothing in sight that could possibly turn into afriend--except a little tuft of faded brown that out of the corner ofmy eye I detected zigzagging toward me in the direction from which wehad come. A moment later I knew it really was a friend. "Crinkle, " amongrel dog that Fred bad adopted the day after our arrival, breastedthe low rise, saw me, gave a yelp of delight and came scampering. 

The dog sniffed my knee to make sure of me, and then trotted over tosniff Schillingschen. The professor stooped down to pat him, rubbedhis ear a moment to get the dog's confidence, and then seized himsuddenly by both hind legs. I saw what he intended too late. 

"Stop, or I'll kill you!" I shouted, and made a rush at him. But heswung the yelping dog and hurled him far out into the pool. 

A second later my fist crashed into his face and be staggered backward. A second later yet the dumb Zulu pinned my elbows from behind and sethis knee into the small of my back with such terrific force that Iyelled with pain. Then Schillingschen approached me and began to tryto drive my teeth in with unaccustomed fists. He loosened my frontteeth, but cut his own knuckles, so began looking about for a stick. 

Strangely enough my own attention was less fixed on Schillingschen thanon the wretched "Crinkle" swimming frantically for shore. Dog-like hewas making straight for me, and there was no possibility whatever ofhis being able to scramble up the steep side. I shouted to call hisattention, and tried to motion to him to swim toward shallow water, butthe Zulu would not let my arms free, and the dog only thought I wasurging him to hurry. 

Schillingschen found a stick and came back to give me a hammering withit just at the moment when a crocodile saw "Crinkle. " A blow landed onmy head, cut my forehead, and sent the blood down into my eyes at thesame moment that I heard the dog's yelp of agony; and next time Ilooked at the pond there was a tiny whirlpool on the surface, slightlytinged with red. 

"You swine!" I shouted at Schillingschen, trying to break loose andattack him. For answer he raised his cudgel in both hands and stood ontiptoe to get leverage. If that blow had landed it must have brokensomething, for he was strong as a gorilla; but somebody shouted--Irecognized Fred's voice, and in another second he and Will charged downon us. Schillingschen turned about to strike Fred instead of me, butWill's fist hit him on the ear and split it. The professor staggeredbackward, and a moment later Fred had felled the Zulu. I reeled from weakness and excitement, and nearly fell down. 

"Throw him to the crocks, you men!" I urged madly. "He threw Crinklein. Throw him! Nobody'll ever know! He'd have dared throw me in!Nobody comes here! Throw him in and trust the crocks to leave notrace!"

"Shut up, you fool!" growled Fred. 

"Did you see him throw that dog in?" I retorted. 

"No, " " he answered, "but I saw him strike you. That's enough! I'lldeal with him!"

I suppose Fred intended to knock the professor down and belabor himwith the same stick be had used on me, but the plan died stillborn. Schillingschen bethought him of his hip-pocket, produced a repeatingpistol, and leveled it. 

"Any nonsense, and I shoot you all!" he announced. 

That ended the battle as far as we were concerned. We had no firearms. Schillingschen wasted no time on explanations, but beckoned his Zuluand walked off, striding at a great pace and only looking back over hisshoulder once or twice to make sure we were not in pursuit. 

Fred and Will lent me an arm apiece and we followed slowly, Irecounting as fast as I could all that had happened, and they trying tochaff me back into a sensible frame of mind. 

"That was a decent dog!" I insisted. "He slept on my bed those nightswhen I had fever!"

"I know it, " Fred answered. "Will and I lay and scratched, while yourested, with proper flea-food for protection! Don't worry, we'll findyou another dog!"

Schillingschen's consideration for my wound had vanished with thechance of making use of me. As we emerged into the open we saw him inthe distance lolling in the hammock he had brought me in. 

"Never mind!" grinned Will. "I'll bet the brute has an earache!"

"And teeth-ache!" added Fred. 

"And I'll bet he has gone to prepare us a hot reception!" said I. "Heowns this town!"

But nothing happened immediately on our return into the town. ActuallyFred and Will had been outside township limits and could be arrested;suspecting foul play as soon as they saw me with Schillingschen, theyhad followed at once. They were as mystified as I when no swiftvengeance lit on them. We saw Schillingschen carried in the hammock upthe steep path leading to the commandant's house; but no one came downagain. After we got back to camp we spent all the rest of the daywaiting for the vengeance we felt sure was overdue, but none came. Toward evening we even began to grow hopeful again and to talk aboutthe dhow. Fred and Will had examined it through field-glasses from thetop of the rock, and were optimistic 'regarding its size and generalcondition. 

"Even if it leaks rather badly, " said Will, "we could reach someisland, and beach it there, and caulk it. "

"How about that launch, that brought the professor and Lady SaffrenWaldon?" I asked. 

"What about it?"

"Couldn't they follow us with that?"

"You bet they could!" said Will. "We've either got to spike thelaunch's boilers, or give them the complete slip on a dark night!"

"We might steal the launch!" suggested Fred, but that was too wild aproposal to be taken seriously. The launch was the apple of the Germangovernmental eye, and the engine crew slept on it always. 

The prospect was unpromising as ever, yet I went to bed and listened tothe strains of Fred's concertina in the next tent with less forebodingthan at any time since reaching Muanza, and fell asleep to the tune ofSilver Hairs among the Gold, a melancholy piece that Will liked to singwhen hope or courage stirred him. 

I was awakened near midnight of a moonless black night by a hand on mybedclothes and the light of a lantern in my eyes. 

"Hus-s-s-h!" said some one. "Don't speak yet! Listen!"

It was a woman's voice, and it puzzled me indescribably, for a sickman's wits don't work swiftly as a rule when he lies between sleepingand waking. 

"Listen!" said the voice again. "I must come to terms with you threemen! You are the only hope left me! I have no friends in Muanza--andnone whom I trust! Those Greeks and that Goanese would sell me to thefirst bidder, and these Germans are worse than dogs!"

"But who are you?" I asked stupidly. 

For answer she held the lantern so that I could see her face. Her handtrembled, and the unsteady light threw baffling shadows, but even so Icould see she looked drawn and aged. 

"Where is your maid, then, Lady Waldon?" I asked, for it seemed to methat was one friend who had served her through thick and thin. 

"Ask the commandant!" she answered. "The poor foot thinks he willmarry her! Little she knows of the German method! I am alone! I havenot even a servant any longer! I have walked through the shadows fromthe commandant's house, only lighting this lantern after I was insidethe hedge. Nobody knows I am here. One watchman was asleep; theothers did not see me. All you need fear is those Greeks. As long asthey don't suspect I am here we can talk safely. "

I tumbled out of bed on the far side, and went to waken the other two. After a hurried consultation we decided my tent was the best for theinterview, because of the light that had burned in it nearly alwayswhile I was so deathly ill. We wrapped ourselves in blankets, and Fredwent and shook Simba awake. 

"Watch those Greeks!" be ordered him. "If they show signs of life, come and give the alarm!"

Then we set Lady Waldon's lantern on the ground in the back of my tent, closed the tent up, and foregathered. There was one chair. We threesat on the bed. 

"Before we begin, " said Fred, "we'd like some kind of proof, LadyWaldon, that your overture is honest! I've no need to labor the point. Until now you have been our implacable enemy. Why should we believeyou are our friend to-night ?"

She sighed. "I don't expect friendship, " she answered. "You and I arein deep water, and must find a straw that may float us all! If I canhelp you to escape out of the country I will. If you can help me, youmust! If you don't escape there are worse things in store for you thanyou imagine! If you tell your secret now, they intend to prevent yourtelling it to any one else afterward! And unless you tell they intendto take terrible steps to compel you! As for me--they have discoveredthat after all I know nothing, and am of no further use to them! Theyhave not said so, but it is very clear to me how the land lies. Professor Schillingschen is drunk to-night; he came home with his carand mouth bleeding, and has plied the whisky bottle freely ever sinceuntil he fell asleep an hour and a half ago. He boasted over his cups. They are simply using this long wait for Major Schunk, who is supposedto be coming from the coast, to gather additional evidence against you. They have men out following your trail back by the way you came, andif they can find no genuine evidence they will invent what they need;the purpose is to get you legally behind the bars; and if you evercome out again alive that would not be their fault!"

"What do you propose?" asked Fred. 

"Escape!" she answered excitedly. Then another thought made her clenchher fists. "Is it possible you told Professor Schillingschen yoursecret to-day? Did one of you tell him? Is that why he is drunk?"

She saw by our faces that that fear was groundless, but a greater one, that she might not be able to convince us, seized her next and she madesuch an excited gesture that the shawl she wore over her head andshoulders fell away and her long hair came tumbling down like a witch's. 

 "Listen! There is nothing that you men from your point of viewcould say too bad about me! I know! I have been in the pay of Germanyfor many years, but what you don't know is how they got me in the toilsand kept me in, dragging me down from one degradation to another! Theyhave dragged me down so far at last that I am not much more use tothem. If we were in British territory they would simply expose me tothe British government and save themselves the trouble of ending mycareer. They did that to Mrs. Winstin Willoughby, and Lord James Rait, and fifty others; it was so easy to put incriminating evidence againstthem in the hands of the public prosecutor. Lord James Rait died inDartmoor Prison--a common felon. I shall not! But believe me--I amcertain as I sit here that they only wait for my return to BritishEast! To have me murdered here might start inconvenient rumors thatwould lead to unanswerable questions! It was proposed to me to-daythat I should return to British East on the launch!"

"Then why talk about escaping?" Fred wondered. "Why not go?"

"Because, " she hissed emphatically, "don't you see, you stupid!--ifthey send me back it will be to my doom! My one chance is to escapefrom their clutches--get into touch with British officials--and savethe situation by telling my own tale first!"

Fred was in no hurry to be convinced. I was already for accepting herstory and helping her out; but that was perhaps because I was a sickman, too recently recovered from the gates of death to care to be hardon any one. 

"I still don't see your danger, " Fred told her. "In all my life I failto recall a single instance of the British courts passing a severesentence on a spy. If you'll excuse my saying so, your story aboutLord James Rait is incorrect. I recall the case well. He got atwenty-year sentence for forgery. "

"True!" she answered. "And Mrs. Winstin Willoughby was sentenced tofifteen years for theft! Lord James did forge--in the way of businessfor the German government! Jane Winstin Willoughby did steal--for thesame blackguard masters! Do you think they will expose me as a spy?That would be too clumsy, even for such bullies as they are! Do yousuppose they could have dragged me down to this without some sword heldover me? They can prove that I committed a crime in England severalyears ago. Oh, yes, I am a criminal! I raised a check. It was acheck on a German bank, given to me by a German on behalf of acountryman of his. I needed money desperately, and the man who broughtthe check to me suggested I should raise it! Since then I have triedto repay that money with interest a dozen times, but they have alwayslaughed and told me they preferred to leave matters as they are. "

"What would be the use of returning to British territory, then?" askedFred. "If they hold that over you, they can denounce you at any time. "

"Not they!" she answered. "Not if I get there first! I know too much! I can tell too much! I can prove too much! If I were once arrestedon the charge of raising that check, no government in the world wouldlisten to me. But if I can tell my story first, and confess about thecheck, and explain why the charge is likely to be brought against me, then there will be Downing Street officials who know how to whisper tothe German Embassy words that will frighten them into silence! I canprove too much against the German government, if only I can tell mytale before they crush me!"

"Why not write it?" asked Fred, and it seemed to me there was humor inhis eye, but she only detected stubbornness, and laughed scornfully. 

"My own maid even gave them the letters written to me by my sister! IfI should be suspected of writing they would never rest until they hadthe letter!"

"Give me your letter to mail!" suggested Fred maliciously. 

"Deluded man!" she sneered. "All the letters you have written since youcame to Muanza lie in a drawer in the commandant's desk! I myself haveread them!"

In the dark, with shifting shadows thrown by the cheap trade lantern, it was difficult to judge what was going on behind that beard ofFred's. I had begun to suspect he was coming over to my way ofthinking and would yield to her presently, but he returned to theattack--very directly and abruptly. 

"What is it you know against the German government?" he demanded, andsat with his jaw in the palm of his hand waiting for her answer. 

"Why should I tell you? Why should I put myself completely in yourpower?"

"Why not?" asked Fred. 

"What would prevent you from stealing my thunder, and telling my storyas your own--leaving me at the Germans' mercy?"

"Something very potent that I think you would not understand if Italked of it, " Fred answered. "Listen to me now a minute. I haven'tconferred with my friends here, as you know. Whatever I tell you issubject to their agreeing with me. The only condition on which I, forone, would consent to taking part with you in anything--after all ourexperience of you!--would be that you should put yourself so completelyin our power that we could feel we had your safekeeping. On thoseterms I would be willing to do my best to help you out. "

"I agree to that like a shot!" said Will; and I nodded. 

"You mean--?"

"All or nothing!" Fred insisted. 

"You mean that you also, just like these Germans, must have a sword tohold over me?"

"I thought you wouldn't understand!" Fred answered. "What we demand, Lady Saffren Walden, is proof that you really do give us yourconfidence. Without that we have nothing to say to you, and nothing todo with you!"

She broke down then and cried a little, tearing herself with sobs shehated to release. Suddenly she raised her head and glared at uswildly, dry-eyed; not a tear had accompanied the sobbing. 

"If I tell you--if you fail me after that--I shall kill myself in suchway that you shall know--my blood is on your heads!"

Fred laughed. It was no doubt the best thing to do, but I wondered howhe managed it. 

"Suppose you begin by telling us, " he said. "We can discuss theblood-stains afterward!"

Then she suddenly burst into her tale, as if she had rehearsed it ahundred times in readiness to pour into the ears of the first Britishofficial who had power enough to shield her. She told it dramatically, in few words, wasting no breath on side-issues, and without oncepausing to explain, letting her words smash down the barriers ofunbelief and pave their own way for explanations afterward. 

"Germany is planning to conquer the world!--not now, but ten or a dozenyears from now! She is getting ready ceaselessly! Part of the plan isto undermine British rule in Africa by means of a religious influenceamong the natives. That is the special duty of ProfessorSchillinschen. As soon as possible a great native army is to betrained, and thoroughly schooled in the fanatical precepts of Islam. But the German people are too heavily taxed already, and refuse to votemoney for this miserable colony, where the great beginning must be madebecause it is only here that they can work unsuspected. So funds mustbe found in some other way!"

She paused for breath. No woman pleading at the bar of justice couldhave seemed more in earnest. Of one thing I was quite sure: she hadfound it worth her while to convince us if that were possible. She wasplaying no half-hearted game. 

"Do you begin to see now why the Germans are so set on finding TippooTib's hoard of ivory? Do you begin to understand why they aredetermined, not only to prevent your finding it, but to learn yoursecret? If rumor is one-half true, the Arab buried somewhere enoughivory to finance this plan of theirs! They have been going about thesearch systematically, and sooner or later they feel they must stumbleon it. They will not let you forestall them!"

She paused again. Her very earnestness exhausted her more than thewalk through the dark in danger had done. 

"Take your time, " Fred advised her. "We're all listening!"

"When I told you in Nairobi that Lord Montdidier had been murdered, Ibelieved I was so near the truth that you would never know thedifference. I knew the order had been given to have him killed onboard ship--given by men who are accustomed to be obeyed--who do notexcuse failure on any ground. They feared he might be going to divulgethe secret of the ivory to his government in London. Oh, I tell youthey stop at nothing! To-day London is the ivory market of the world, but they have their arrangements made for transferring that center oftrade to Hamburg! They mean first to crush competitors, and thenmonopolize! They hope the ivory is in this country. In that casetheir task will be easy. But if it should be found in British East, they are all ready with the necessary men of influence to apply for amining or agricultural concession, and they will fence that place offso thoroughly that no one will ever be the wiser until they havecarried the ivory out of the country!"

"They could never get it out of British East without the governmentknowing, " objected Fred; but she laughed at him. 

"If worse came to the worst, they are ready with an offer to exchangeten times the territory elsewhere for just that small section of thecountry. They would give up German New Guinea, or SouthwestAfrica--anything! They have fooled the French and Russian governmentsuntil they are ready to bring pressure to bear on Englanddiplomatically to induce her to make almost any bargain of that kindthat the Germans want. They are even willing to concede to England thewhole of Abyssinia, which nobody owns yet, and to back her up againstthe claims of France and Italy! Why should they not be willing to maketemporary concessions, when all Africa is to be theirs in ten years'time! They will give to-day, and with the help of the money that ivorywill bring they will create an army that shall take away to-morrow!"

"But how can you prove all this?" Fred asked her. 

"How? I know the names of the men who are preaching Germany's sermonsall through British East! I know all Schillingschen's secrets! Whyshould I not? I have suffered enough! He is a drunken brute nearlyalways after the sun goes down, and his caresses are disgusting; Ihave endured them until I know all he knows! Now he realizes that Iknow his secrets and have none of my own to tell, so he hopes to sendme to my doom at the hands of the government I have betrayed too manytimes! What is the use of my pretending to be better than I am? I ama spy--a traitress--a divorced woman with worse than no reputation! Iam not a person likely to be shown much mercy! I never would haverecanted unless the end of my rope had come! Now I know I must buy mypardon--I must earn it--I must pay for it with solid value! Luckily Ican do that! I do not ask you men for mercy. I know what is in storefor you if you do not escape! I offer to help you to escape, inexchange for helping me!"

"Better be more precise!" suggested Fred. "Exactly what is in storefor us?"

She pointed her finger at me. "You went out of bounds to-day withSchillingschen! Well and good; he was with you. But you, and you--"She pointed at Fred and Will. "--went without permission. Why do yousuppose they over-looked such a splendid chance of jailing you legally? Schillingschen came up to the commandant's house in a toweringpassion, demanding the immediate arrest and close confinement of allthree of you. He was only persuaded to wait a few days longer becausea runner has come in with word that the bodies of several Masai whomyou shot on this side of the German border have been found! Thebones--the bullets found among the bones--and cartridge cases that willfit your rifles are being brought to Muanza! After that--the deluge, my friends! That is why Professor Schillingschen gets drunk and singshimself to sleep in spite of your being still at liberty! Eitherescape before that evidence reaches Muanza, or make up your minds forthe worst! It is growing late--answer me--do you agree?"

Fred glanced once at each of us. We both nodded. 

"We agree with reservations, " he said. 

"What are they? Man--don't be a fool! Don't fritter the lives of allof us away!"

"They're simple. We've a friend in the jail here. His name's Brown. "

"That drunkard? Leave him! He's worthless!"

"We've a servant on the chain-gang. His name is Kazimoto. "

"A nigger? You'd risk another day in this place for a nigger? Howabsurd! They're never grateful. They don't see things from the whiteman's standpoint. They don't expect ideal treatment. Leave him hiswages and tell him to follow when they let him off the chain!"

"And we have a string of porters, " Fred continued. "We will not leaveMuanza without the porters, our man Kazimoto, and Mr. Brown of Lumbwa!"

"You are mad! You are crazy!"

"We are the men you have invited to trust you, " Fred answered kindly. "Those are our conditions. We will not 'bate one iota! Take'em or leave 'em, Lady Waldon!"

CHAPTER TEN

IN HOC SIGNO VADE

Lean, loveless, hungry lanes are these! The longest has an end. Ill luck tasted to the bitter lees Soonest shall mend. >From out the foe's ranks if Heaven please Shall come your friend. 

We came to no fixed decision that night, although we knew there was noalternative. She held out, in the vain hope of making us agree toleave Kazimoto and Brown behind. The porters, she agreed, might comein very handy, although it was at least doubtful that we should be ableto slip out of Muanza by land. The Germans had taken latterly tocounting our porters every morning, to supplying them with ration moneyonce every day, and to sending the bill to us by an askari, who waitedfor the cash. At any rate, she conceded the porters, provided we wouldleave the two others behind. And of course we were adamant. 

She left us an hour and a half before dawn, we letting her return alonebecause of the greater danger of detection if we had tried to escorther. It was after she had gone, while we sat listening for the soundof a challenge that would have ruined all her hopes, if not ours, thatWill conceived the bright idea which finally saved us. 

"The Heinies don't know that we're wise to their game, " he saidcheerfully. His ears were sticking out from his head and he had thenaughty boy look that always presaged wisdom. "Why don't we play thatcard for all it's worth?"

"We need five cards to make even a poker hand, " Fred objected. 

"Will a full house suit you--aces and queens?" he answered. "I'venamed you one ace already. Ace number two is the fact that theseGerman officials are brutes pure and simple--brutes who don'tunderstand how to be anything else, with brutal low cunning and noother cleverness. "

"That sounds like the joker!" said Fred. 

"It's ace number two, I tell you! The third is the fact that Brown ofLumbwa can talk with Kazimoto in the night through that corrugated ironpartition! Three aces--count 'em--one, two, three! Queens? One of'em left a few minutes ago! The other's the dhow! We'll call thatblessed boat the Queen of Sheba for luck! The Queen of Sheba got toher journey's end, and found more than she expected, and by the lightsof little old Broadway, so shall we! I've dealt the cards--is it up tome to play them?"

"Your hand, America! Talk it over first, though! There's an awful lothangs on the game!" said Fred. 

I fell asleep while they argued over the points of Will's strategy. Africa is a land of sudden death and swift recoveries, but for aconvalescent man I had been through a strenuous day and had right to betired out. It was broad daylight when I awoke, and breakfast wasready. Fred and Will had returned from their march around the townshipwith the native band, and to my surprise the commandant was standing infront of their tent, talking with them. I threw on a jacket and joinedthem at table. 

"I don't understand you, " said the commandant. "Either talk German orspeak more slowly!"

Will took a purchase on his stock of patience and began again. 

"If our porters run away, you'll blame us. We don't care to be blamedfor what is none of our fault. So if you don't put 'em all on a chainand lock 'em up nights, we're going to discontinue paying for theirkeep. That's flat! You can work 'em if you like. Let 'em help keepthe township clean. We'll pay their board and wages as long as you'reresponsible for their not escaping! And say! If you want to get realwork out of 'em I'll give you a tip. There never was a savage likethat Kazimoto of ours for getting results out of that gang. Put him onthe same chain with the lot of 'em, and we'll all be satisfied! Idon't presume to be running your jail, but I'm telling you factsthat'll hurt nobody. Those porters 'ud be a darn sight better off withplenty of exercise. "

"Do I understand you to ask that your porters be made prisoners?" askedthe commandant. 

"You get me exactly!" said Will. 

The commandant grunted, nodded, waited for us to get up and salute him, grunted again with disgust when we did nothing of the sort, turned onhis heel, and walked off. We spent an hour on tenterhooks, and I beganto believe the German had simply become more suspicious than ever andwould keep closer watch on us without troubling at all about the men. But at the end of an hour we saw the porters rounded up, and a chainfetched out that was long enough to hold them all. They disappearedwithin the boma wall. Ten minutes later suddenly Will pointed towardthe southward. 

"Look! See what happens when the roofs of shanty-town take fire!"

Flames went up from the dry grass roof of one of the rectangularSwahili huts. Within thirty seconds the askaris on guard at the bomabegan firing their rifles in the air as fast as they could pull thetrigger and reload. Within two minutes the chain-gang was headed forjail, where it was locked behind doors, in order that every askari inMuanza might be free to pile arms and hurry to the fire. It was not only askaris; the whole township turned out as to thecircus, with Schubert and his long kiboko ruling the riot. The othersergeants were in evidence, but quiet, imperturbable men compared totheir feldwebel, plying their kibokos without wasting words, stirringthe whole world within their reach into action--if not orderly andpurposeful, action, at least. 

Schubert climbed on a roof well to windward and safe from the sparks, and directed proceedings in a voice that out-thundered the mob's roarand crackling flames. To illustrate his meaning he seized handsful ofthe thatch on which he stood and tore them out, to the huge discontentof the owner. The crowd saw what he wanted and began at once tearingoff roofs in a wide circle around the fire so as to isolate it, Schubert demonstrating until scarcely a handful of thatch remained onthe roof he honored and he had to stand awkwardly on the crisscrosspoles, while the owner and his women wept. 

Within ten minutes after the commencement of the fire there was underway a regular orgy of roof pulling. Whoever had an enemy ran and torehis roof off, and there were several instances of reciprocity, twofamilies tearing off each other's roofs, each believing the other to beat the fire. 

Muanza was a furious place--a riot--a home of din and tumult while thefire lasted, and when it was put out it took another hour to stop thefights between victims of the flames and unofficial salvage-men. 

"D'ye get the idea of it?" asked Will. "D'ye see the Achilles heel?"

In that second, I believe, Fred Oakes and I betrayed ourselves genuineadventurers. Any fool could have talked glibly about setting the townon fire; any coward could have yelped about the danger of it, andimprobability of success. It needed adventurers to size up instantlyall the odds against the idea, recognize the one infinitesimal chance, and plump for it. And we were there!

"It's the only chance we've got!" agreed Fred. "I'm for it! Lead onAmerica!"

"I believe we can pull it off!" said I. "I'm game!"

After that it seemed like waste of time to talk, yet every singledetail of our plan had to be thought out beforehand and mentallyrehearsed, if we hoped to have even the one slim chance we built on. Luckily Professor Schillingschen continued drunk, which meant that hewould sleep early and give Lady Waldon another chance to pay us anocturnal visit. One of our boys told us that according to marketgossips the commandant was drinking with him and the two of them werewatching a sort of prolonged native nautch they had staged in seclusionon the hill. 

The next day we learned there was to be a murder trial of no less thannine men--an event likely to keep the whole garrison's attention drawnaway from us. And after the trial would come the hanging (it wouldhave been impossible to convince any one, German or native, that theverdict and sentence were not foregone conclusions). The stars intheir courses appeared to be on our side. For several nights to comethe worst the moon could do would be to show a sliver of silvercrescent for an hour or two. 

Lady Waldon came earlier that night. When we outlined our plan to herroughly she argued against it at first--and it was impossiblefar-fetched--ridiculous. She insisted again on our simply sneakingaway by night with her. But Fred wasted no time on argument, and tookthe upper hand. 

"Take us or leave us, Lady Waldon, as we are! We've an unwritten rulethat none of us has ever thought of breaking, that binds us to obey themember of the party whose plan we have adopted. On this occasion wehave agreed to Mr. Yerkes' plan, and you've got to obey him implicitlyif you want to have part with us! We will not leave our men or Brownof Lumbwa behind, and we will not change the plan by a hair's breadth!Will you or won't you obey?"

She yielded then very quickly. It seemed a relief to her at last tosubject her views to those of men whose purpose was merely honest. Will took up the reins at once. 

"We've talked over buying the boat, " he said, "but that's hopeless. The more we paid for it the louder the owner would brag. The Germanswould be 'on' in a minute. We've simply got to steal it. It's up toyou to find out the man's proper name and address, and we'll send himthe money from the first British post-office we reach. "

"Don Quixote de la Mancha!" she said critically. "Well--we steal theboat and you pay for it afterward. The owner will think you are crazy, and if the Germans ever discover it they will take the money away fromhim by some legal process. But go on!"

"We've plenty of money, " said Will, "so there's no need to worry abouttoo many supplies to begin with. But we'll need scant rations forourselves and all our men until we reach some place where more are tobe bought. And we've got to get them on board the dhow secretly. Thefirst question is, how to do that. "

She told us at once of a path going round by the back of the hillbehind us, that would make the trip to the dhow in the dark a matter ofover two miles, but that avoided all sentries and habitations. Weagreed that all three of us should climb to the top of the hill, whichwas not out of bounds--and study the track next morning. On thefateful night we must take our chance, just as she had done, ofavoiding the sleepy-eyed sentry who kept watch over the Greeks. 

"We'll talk to Brown of Lumbwa on the morning and afternoon marcharound the township, " Will went on. "Brown must whisper to Kazimotothrough the corrugated iron partition in the jail at night, and havethem all ready to break loose at the signal and bring him along withthem. We must be careful to show Brown just where the dhow is. He hasbeen sober quite a while. Maybe he'll remember if we direct himcarefully. "

"What is to be the signal?" she asked. 

"Just what I'm coming to, " said Will. "A fire-alarm on the first windynight! The next question is, who is to start the fire? We'll need agood one! Yet if we do it, we're likely to be caught by the crowdcoming running to deal with it. "

"Coutlass!" she answered suddenly. "Coutlass and his two friends!"

"You'll perhaps pardon me, " Fred answered, "but none of us would trustthose Greeks as far as a hen could swim in alcohol!"

"Yet you must! Leave them to me! They don't know that the sand in myglass has run down. Let me go to them presently, pretending that Iwent direct to them and am afraid of being seen by you. I will tellthem that the Germans want a good excuse for putting you three men injail and that they will he sent away free as a reward if they willstart a fire and charge you afterward with arson! I will tell them tochoose the first windy night, so as to have a really spectacular blazeworth committing perjury about!"

"Better arrange a signal, " Will advised. "They might otherwise firebefore we were ready!"

"Very well. You men give me the word at midday of the day of thestart, and I will spread red, white and blue laundry on the roof of thecommandant's house for the Greeks to see. "

"Good enough!" agreed Will. "Now one more stunt! We simply must havefirearms. The Germans have taken ours away and locked them up. At apinch I suppose we could manage with one rifle, provided we had lots ofammunition. We would rather have one each. In fact, the more themerrier. One we must have! What about it?"

She thought for several minutes. At last she told us that one of thecommandant's rifles and one of Schillingschen's stood leaning in acorner of the living-room beside a book-case. Whether she could makeaway with one or both of those without detection she did not know, andshe would have to use her wits regarding ammunition. It was alwayskept locked up. 

"Why not kill an askari and take his rifle and cartridges?" she asked. "The sentry on duty watching the Greeks will be in the way. Knock himon the head from behind!"

"Thank you!" grinned Will, exchanging glances with us. "We shall haveabout enough on our consciences setting fire to half the township. We'll not kill except in self-defense. "

"But you won't set the town on fire! The Greeks will do that!"

"Don't let's argue ethics!" Fred interrupted, for Will's cars weregetting red. "Can you tell us for certain, Lady Waldon, whether allthe askaris and German sergeants really run to a fire? Or do a certainnumber remain in the boma?"

"Oh, I know about that, " she answered. "Until the prisoners are alllocked in--that is to say, in case of fire in the daytime--six or eightaskaris remain inside the boma. The minute they are locked in, if thefire is serious, and in case of fire by night, they all go except two, who stand on the eastern boma wall, one at each corner. From therethey are supposed to be able to see on every side except thewater-front. Nobody guards the water-front; I don't know why, unlessit is that the gate on that side is kept locked almost always and thewall runs along the water's edge. "

"As a matter of fact, " said I, "those two sentries on the wall will betoo busy staring at the fire, if the Greeks really make a big one, tosee anything else unless we march by under their noses with a brassband. "

"Bah!" sneered Lady Waldon. "If I get that rifle I would dare shootthem both for you myself!"

"If you overstep one detail of Will's plan, I guarantee to put youashore on the first barren island we come to!" said Fred. "Leaveshooting to us!"

The next problem was to draw away from the Greeks the attention of theaskari at the cross-roads. We could not see him, for it was one ofthose black African nights when the stars look like tiny pin-pricks andthere are no shadows because all is dark. To go out and look what hewas doing would have been to arouse his suspicion. Yet there wasalways a chance that he might be patrolling down near the Greek camp;doubtless acting on orders, he had a trick of approaching their tentsvery closely once in a while. 

So when Lady Waldon had slipped out into the darkness we lit half adozen lamps and started a concert, Fred playing and we singing the sortof tunes that black men love. He took the bait, hook, sinker, and all; in the silence at the end of the first song we heard his butt groundon the gravel just beyond the cactus hedge in front of us; and therehe stayed, we entertaining him for an hour. By that time we were quitesure that Lady Waldon had passed along the road behind him; so Fredwent out and gave him tobacco. 

"It's time you went and looked at those Greeks again!" he advised him. "You would be in trouble if they slipped away in the night!"

Now that a plan of campaign was finally decided on, there seemed muchless to do than we had feared. Mapping out in our minds the way roundthe back of the hill to the dhow was perfectly simple; we went andsmoked on the hilltop, and within an hour after breakfast had everyturn and twist memorized. Fred drew a chart of the track for safety'ssake. 

Persuading Brown of Lumbwa proved unexpectedly to be much the mostdifficult task. Added to the fact that the askaris who marched behindand the Greeks who marched in front were unusually inquisitive, Brownhimself was afraid. 

"We'll all be shot in the dark!" he objected. 

"Would you rather, " Will asked, "be shot in the dark with a run for'your money, or fed to the crocks in the doctor's pond?" And be toldhim about the crocodiles to encourage him. 

"They'll have to let me out of jail at the end of the month, " Brownargued. 

"Don't you believe it! In less than a week from now we'll all be in onone and the same charge of filibustering! They'll not let you go backto British East to tell tales about their treatment of the rest of us, "Will assured him. 

But Brown proved tinged with a little streak of yellow somewhere. Itwas not until the afternoon march that Fred and Will, one on eitherside of him, by appeals to his racial instinct and recalling themethods of the military court, induced him to do his part. Once havingpromised he vowed he would see the thing through to the end; but hewas the weak link; he was afraid; and he disbelieved in the wisdom ofthe attempt. 

It was Kazimoto in the end who kept Brown up to the mark, and shamedhim into action by superior courage. Fred found a chance to speak tohim as the long string rested al noon under the narrow shade of acactus hedge, and warned him in about fifty words of what was intended. (The askaris, almost as leg-weary as the gang, were sprawling at thefar end of the line, gambling at pitch-and-toss. )

"Be sure you sleep as near to the partition as you can. Get details ofthe plan from Mr. Brown, and then drill the porters one by one! Don'tlet them tell one another. You tell each one of them yourself!"

Then he walked down the line and ordered the porters in a loud voice toobey the askaris implicitly, and to work harder in return for the goodfood and care they were getting, winking at the same time veryemphatically, with the eye the askaris could not see. 

The night work was the hardest. , because, although we were quite sureabout direction, even in the dark, it was another matter to feel ourway and carry unaccustomed loads. By day we decided what to take andwhat to leave behind, and we cut down what to take with us to theirreducible, dangerous minimum. Then we broke that up into thirty- orforty-pound packages, so that when we all three made the trip to thedhow the most we took at one time was about a hundred pounds' weight. In the condition I was in I could take not more than one trip to theothers' two; after the first it was agreed that I would better staybehind and keep an eye on the askari. The minute he showed symptoms ofbecoming inquisitive I was to invent some way of keeping his attention; so all unsuspected by him I lay in the sand by the roadside withinthree yards of him, while the ants crawled over me and he dozed leaningon his rifle. Once a long snake crawled over my wrist and my verymarrow curdled with fear and loathing; but except for mosquitoes, whowere legion and sucked their fill, there was no other contretemps. Idon't know what I would have done if the askari had taken alarm and setoff to investigate. I trusted to intuition should that happen. 

The work of arranging the stuff in the dhow was the most difficult ofall, because we dared not light a lantern, yet we also dared not stowthings carelessly for fear of confusion when the hour of action came. The space was ridiculously small for ourselves and all those men, andevery inch had to be economized. In addition to that the dhow had tobe worked backward off the mud far enough to be shoved off easily, andthen made fast by a rope to the bushes in such way as not to benoticeable. Most of the ropes turned out to be rather rotten, and wecould only guess at the condition of the sails; the feel of them inthe dark gave us small assurance. But fortunately we had a couple ofhundred feet of good half-inch manila in camp with us, and that Fredand Will took out and stowed in the hold the night following. 

We bought such things at the D. O. A. G. As we could without arousingsuspicion, as, for instance, a quantity of German dried pea-soup--notthat the porters would take to it kindly, but it would go a long wayamong them at a pinch. Live stock we did not dare buy, for fear of thenoise it would make; but we laid in some eggs and bananas. Most ofthe thirty-pound loads were rice. 

It troubled us sorely to leave our good tents, beds, and equipmentbehind, yet all we could take was the blankets and one gladstone bagpacked with clothes for us all. Kettles and pots and pans were a noisynuisance, yet we had to have them, and blankets for all those porters, who would escape from jail practically naked, were an essential; butfortunately we had a sixty-pound bale of trade-blankets among our loads. 

Not one word did we exchange all this while with Coutlass and hisfriends. Not one overture did we make to them, or they to us. Butthere was no doubt of their intention to do their worst. They gloatedover us --eyed us with lofty disdain and scornful superior knowledge. They were so full of the notion of having us jailed for their misdeedthat they positively ached to come and jeer at us, and I believe wereonly saved from doing that by the shortness of the time. 

At last, three days after decision had been reached, we threw ourblankets with a red one uppermost over the top of both tents in thesun; and within thirty minutes after that Lady Saffren Waldon hadspread on the commandant's roof a blue cotton dress, a white petticoat, and a blazing red piece of silken stuff. There and then the Greeks andthe Goanese pledged one another out in the open with copious draughtsin turn from the neck of one whisky bottle, and we began to pray theymight not get too drunk before night. Judging by their meaning glancesat us, they considered us their mortal and cruel enemies whom it wouldbe an act of sublime virtue to bring to book. 

The trial of the natives for murder had taken place, accompanied by theusual amount of thrashing of witnesses and the usual stir throughoutthe countryside. These were charged with having murdered an askarinear their village--a big bully sent to arrest a man, who had takenleave to help himself to more than rations, and had made a lot too freewith the village women. So German military honor had to be upheldexemplarily. Condign vengeance was sure and swift. The execution wasto take place on the drill-ground on the day we chose for our departure. 

There was no risk of investigations that day. Had we known it, wecould have gone away in all likelihood in broad daylight, so busy wasthe garrison in marshaling into place and policing the swarms ofvillagers brought in from as far as sixty miles away to witness Germanjustice. Even the customary parade of the band was canceled for thatoccasion, and that was our only real ground for uneasiness, for itprevented our having a last talk with Brown of Lumbwa and assuringourselves that courage would not fail him in the pinch. 

We worried in plenty without cause, as it seems that humans must do onthe eve of putting plans, however well laid, to the test. We had athousand scares--a thousand doubts--and overlooked at least a thousandevidences that fortune favored us. Toward the end our hearts turned towater at the thought that Kazimoto would probably fail to do his part, although why we should have doubted him after his faithful record, andknowing his hatred of German rule, we would have found it hard to say. 

Several times that morning we showed ourselves about the town, with thepurpose of allaying any possible suspicion and saving the authoritiesthe trouble of asking what we were up to. With the same end in view weattended the execution in the afternoon, and sincerely wished before itwas over that we had stayed away. 

On this occasion even the chain-gangs were included among thespectators, in the front row, on the ground that, being provedcriminals, they needed the lesson more than the hempen-noose-food notyet caught and tried and brought to book. 

The same sort of sermon, only this time more fiery and full of rantinghumbug about German righteousness, was preached by the commandant. Themiserable victims had received a simple death sentence, but heexplained that in virtue of his superior office be had seen fit to addto it. "Death" he explained, "would certainly rid the Germanprotectorate of such conscienceless scalawaps as these, but might notbe enough to discourage the bad element that disliked German rule. Natives must be taught that the very name of all that is German must bereverenced, and that German punishment is as terrible and sure as theGerman arm is long! And be sure of this!" he continued. "The ear ofthe German government is as far-reaching as its arm! In yourvillages--in your homes--in your families--there is always an agent ofthe government listening! Your own brother--your wife--your child maybe that agent of the government! Now, watch carefully and see whathappens to men with bad hearts--aye, and to women with bad hearts, whoconspire against German rule!"

What followed was more impressive because of the determination we hadheard of to bring all Africa under the German yoke. In vain should thewretched natives in after years escape by the hundreds northward in thehope of living under British government. The fools--the "easypeople"--the "folk who gave without a price"--the "truth tellers"--the"men who wish to forget"--the unwise, cocksure, cleaner-living, unbelievably credulous, foolishly honest British officials would be allgone. The pikelhaube and the lash, blackmail and coercion would takethe place of generosity. Africa would better be back under the Arabsagain, for the Arabs had no system to speak of and were inefficient. Some Arabs have a heart--some a very soft heart. 

The crowd grew bright-eyed, little children straining forward betweentheir elders in the bull-fight frenzy--that same intoxication of thesenses that held the Roman freemen spellbound at the sight of suffering. 

One at a time, that the last might see the torture of the first, thevictims were noosed by the heel (one heel)--thrown with a jerk--hauledheel-first to the overhanging branch--and flogged into unconsciousnesswith slow blows, the lieutenant standing by to reprove the askaris ifthey struck too fast, for that would have been merciful. Not until thevictims ceased to struggle were they lowered and thrown on the ground, to lie bleeding, awaiting their turn to be hanged. 

The last two--supposed to have been the culprits who actually held thespear that pierced the marauding askari's heart--were hauled upheel-to-heel together, and hanged presently in the same noose, thecommandant laughing at their struggles and Professor Schillingschenstudying their agony with strictly scientific interest. 

When the last had ceased struggling Schillingschen permitted himselfone more pleasure. He strolled over to us and blocked Fred's way, standing with hands behind him and out-thrust chin. 

"You flatter yourself, don't you!" he sneered. He was just drunkenough to be boastful, while thoroughly sure of what he was saying. "You expect to tell a fine tale! I know the psychology of the English! I know it like a book! Let me tell you two things: First, yourEnglish would not believe you. They are such supremely cocksure foolsthat they can not be made to believe that another so-called civilizednation would act as they, in their egoism, would be ashamed to act!Civilization! That is a fine word, full of false meanings!Civilization is prudery--sham--false pride--veneer! Only the Germansare truly civilized, because they alone are not afraid to face nakedanimalism without its mask! The British dare not! They hide fromit--shut their eyes! The fools! If you could tell them their storythey would never listen!

"Second: You will never tell the story! Being English, you were suchdull-witted fools that you did not even hide the cartridge cases, orthe bones of the Masai you shot! Bah-ha-ha-ha-hah! You can escapehanging yet by telling your secret. Jail you can not escape! Try itif you don't believe me! Try to escape--go on!"

He turned on his heel and left us, striding heavily with the strengthof an ox and about the alertness of a traction engine, turning his headevery once in a while to enjoy the spectacle of our discomfort. 

We judged it best to appear concerned, as if that was indeed our firstrealization of the extent of the case against us and the nature of theevidence. But we did not find it difficult. We were all threestartled by the fear that in some way he had got wind of our plans, andthat he meant to play with us cat-and-mouse fashion. 

That night it stormed--not rain, but wind from east to west, blowingsuch clouds of dust that one could scarcely see across the narrowstreets. Every element favored us. Even the askari at thecross-roads, supposed to be watching the Greeks, turned his back to thewind, and what with rubbing sand in and out of smarting eyes andfingering it out of his ears, heard and saw nothing. It was scarcelysunset when we saw both Greeks and the Goanese sneak out of the campingplace in Indian file with their pockets full of cotton waste. They hadsoaked the stuff in kerosene right under our eye that afternoon. 

There ought to have been a sliver of moon, but the wind and dust hidit. Fifteen minutes after sundown the only light was from the lamps inwindows and the cooking fires glowing in the open here and there. Thirty minutes later there began to be a red glow in three directions. Less than one second after we saw the first indications of theholocaust a regular volley of shots broke out from the boma as thesentries on duty gave the general alarm. Less than five minutes afterthat the whole of the southern, grass-roofed section of the town wasgoing up in flames, and every living man, black, white, gray, mulatto, brown and mixed, was running full pelt to the scene of action. 

We waited ten minutes longer, rather expecting the Greeks to doubleback and begin denouncing us at once. In that case we intended tostretch them out with the first weapons handy. I sat feeling theweight of an ax, and wondering just how hard I could hit a Greek's headwith the back of it without killing him. Fred had a long tent-peg. Will chose a wooden mallet that our porters carried to help in pitchingtents. 

But the Greeks did not come, and there streamed such a perfect screenof crimson dust, sparkling in the reflected blaze and more beautifulthan all the fireworks ever loosed off at a coronation, that it wasfolly to linger. We each seized the load left for that last trip(Fred's included the hammer, Pincers, and cold chisel for striking offthe porters' chain) and started off quietly round the hill, notbeginning to hurry until the hill lay between us and the burning town. 

There was not much need for caution. The roar of flames, the shouting, the excitement would have protected us, whatever noise we made, howeveropenly we ran. Over and above the tumult we could hear Schubert'sbull-throated bellowing, and then the echo to him as the sergeants tookup the shout all together, ordering "Off with the grass roofs! Offwith the roofs!"

The white officials were more than interested, and had no time foranything but thought for the blaze. As we crossed the shoulder of thefar side of the hill we could see them standing on the drill-ground alltogether, clearly defined against the crimson flare. Schillingschenwas with them. 

There was no sign of what had happened at the boma. The gang wouldhave to emerge from a little-used gate at the northern end, providedthey could break the lock or secure the key to it; otherwise theironly chance was to climb the wall by the cook-house roof and jumptwenty feet on the far side. I was for running to the little gate andbursting it in from the outside, but Fred damned me for a mutineerbetween his panting for breath, and Will, who was longer-winded, agreedwith him. 

"Have to leave their end of the plan to them! Let's do our part right!"

As it turned out, we were last at the rendezvous. We heard the chainclanking in the dark just ahead of us, and try how we might, could notcatch up. Then, near the boat bow, Kazimoto suddenly recognized Fredand nearly throttled him in a fierce embrace, releasing all his pent-uprage, agony, resentment, misery, fear in one paroxysm of affection forthe man who cared enough to run risks for the sake of rescuing him. Fred had to pry him off by main force. 

"Into the boat with you!" Will ordered them. "Chain-gang first! Getdown below, and lie down! The first head that shows shall be hit witha club! Quickly now!"

Clanking their infernal chain like all the ghosts from all the hauntedgranges of the Old World, they climbed overside and disappeared. Therewere more figures left on shore then than we expected. Brown we couldmake out dimly in the dark: he was chattering nervously, and admittedthat but for Kazimoto he would not be there. The faithful fellow hadbroken down the corrugated iron partition and had dragged him out bymain force. He was rather resentful than grateful. 

"Hauled here by a nigger--think of it!"

We ordered Brown on board and below, pretty peremptorily. Lady SaffrenWaldon stepped out of the darkness next, holding a rifle and twobandoliers so full of cartridges that she could hardly raise her arms. We took the load from her, and helped her overside. Fred took therifle and succumbed to the hunter's habit of opening the breach firstthing. It was a German sporting Mauser, with a hair trigger attachmentand magazine, as handy and useful a weapon as the heart of man couldwish. He had scarcely snapped the breach to again when a voice we allrecognized made the hair rise on my neck. Fred jumped and raised therifle. Will swore softly--endlessly. 

"Gassharrrrammminy! You men took us for damned fools, didn't you? Youthought to get away and leave us! By hell, no! We go or you stay!Birds of a feather fly together! One of you is American--I amAmerican! Two of you are English--I am English, and can prove it! Myfriends come with me!"

Fred leveled the rifle at him. 

"About face! Off back to town with you!" he barked. 

"Not on your tin-type!" Coutlass yelled. "I'm no man's popinjay!Shoot if you dare, and I'll spoil the whole game! Help! He-e-e-lp!He-e-e-e-lp!"

The other Greek and the Goanese joined in the shout, the dark mansetting up such an ululating screech that the very storm dwindled intosecond place in comparison. It was true, the unearthly yelling wascarried out over the water, and very likely not a sound of it reachedtwenty yards inland; but it rattled our nerves, nevertheless. Theskin grew prickly all up and down my backbone, and the men on thechain-gang inside the hull began shouting to know what the matter was. 

Will remembered then that he was captain for the day, and made virtueof necessity. 

"In with you!" he ordered. "Quick!"

With a grin that was half-triumph, half-cunning, and wholly glad, Coutlass helped his companions over the bow, and had the civility tostand there with hand outstretched to help us in after him. We senthim below with his friends, but be came up again and insisted onleaning his weight on the poles with which we began shoving off intodeeper water. It was hard work, for with her human cargo and severalhundred gallons of water that had leaked through her gaping seams, thedhow was down several inches. Her hull had just begun to feel the windand to rise and fall freely, when a white figure ran screaming downtoward the water's edge and stood there waving to us frantically. 

"Leave her!" said Lady Waldon excitedly, clutching my arm. I was up onthe bow, just about to lay the pole along the deck and haul on thehalyards. She spoke very slowly right in my ear. "That, is my maidRebecca. The faithless slut--"

Coutlass began to shout, trying to pole the dhow back to landsingle-handed. 

"We can't leave that woman behind there!" Fred shouted, hardly makinghimself heard against the wind. 

"Can't we!" shouted Lady Waldon. "Give me that rifle, and I'll solvethe problem for you!"

But Coutlass solved it in another way by jumping overboard, over hishead in deep water, taking our hempen warp with him (I had made one endof it fast to the bitts, meaning to be able to find it in the dark). 

There was quite a sea running, even as close inshore as that, and for amoment I doubted whether the Greek would make it. By that time it wasall we could do to see the woman's white figure, still gesticulating, and screaming like a mad thing. Presently, however, the warptightened, and then by the strain on it I knew that Coutlass was tryingto haul us back inshore. Failing to do that, for the strength of thewind was increasing, he seized the Syrian woman by the waist andplunged into the water with her. I saw them disappear and hauled onthe warp hand-over-hand with all my might, Lady Waldon leaning over tostrike at my hands until I shouted to Fred to come and hold her. Thenshe begged Fred again for the rifle, promising to kill the two of themand reduce our problem to that extent if we would only let her. 

Will and I hauled the dripping pair on board, and Coutlass carried themaid to the stern. She had fainted, either from fright or from beinghalf-drowned, there was no guessing which. Then in pitch blacknesswith Will's help I got the ship beam to the wind and began to make sail. 

Now danger was only just beginning! I was the only one of them all whoknew anything whatever about sails and sailing. I was too weak to getthe sail up single-handed, had no compass, knew nothing whatever of therocks and shoals, except by rumor that there were plenty of both. There appeared to be no way of reefing the lateen sail, which was madeof no better material than calico, and I was entirely unfamiliar withthe rigging. 

Behind us, as we payed before the gaining wind, was brilliant blazethat showed where Muanza was. Against the blaze stood out the lakewardboma wall. I stood due east away from it, and discovered presentlythat by easing on the halyard so as to lower the long spar I couldobtain something the effect of reefing. 

I set Fred and Will to making a sea-anchor of buckets and spars in casethe sail or rotten rigging should carry away, leaving us at the mercyof the short steep waves that fresh-water lakes and the North Sea onlyknow. The big curved spar, now that it was hanging low, bucked andswung and the dhow steered like an omnibus on slippery pavement. Luckily, I had living ballast and could trim the ship how I chose. They all began to grow seasick, but I gave them something to thinkabout by making them shift backward and forward and from side to sideuntil I found which way the dhow rode easiest. 

When Fred had finished the sea-anchor he got out the tools and beganstriking off the iron rings on the porters' necks through which thechain passed. The job took him two hours, but at the end of it weowned a good serviceable chain, and a crew that could be drilled totake the brute hard labor off our shoulders. 

Coutlass meanwhile was busy on the seat in the stern beside me makingHellenic inflammatory love to Lady Waldon's maid, whom he had wrappedin his own blanket and held shivering in his arms. Lady Waldon herselfsat on the other side of me, affecting not to be aware of the existenceof either of them. The other Greek and the Goanese had been drivenbelow, where they started to smoke until I saw the glow of their pipesand shouted to Will to stop that foolishness. He snatched both pipesand threw them overboard. The thought of being seen from shore wasalmost incitement enough for murder. They refused to turn a hand toanything that night, but sat sulking below the sloping roof of reedsand tarpaulin that did duty for a deck, wedged alongside of seasickWanyamwezi. 

It was Kazimoto who chose the least disheartened of the gang, beat themand stung them into liveliness, and set them to bailing. There was atrough running thwartwise of the ship into which the water had to belifted from the midship well. It took the gang of eight men, workingin relays, until nearly dawn to get the water out of her; and to keepher bottom reasonably dry after that two men working constantly. 

I knew vaguely that the great island of Ukerewe lay to thenorthwestward of us. Between that and the mainland, running roughlynorth, was a passage that narrowed in more than one place to less thana hundred yards. That would have been the obvious course to take hadwe not been afraid of pursuit, had we dared get away by daylight, andprovided I had known the way. As it was I intended to add anotherhundred miles to the distance between us and the northern shore of thelake, by sailing well clear of and around Ukerewe, trusting to the lessfrequented water and the wilder islands to make escape easier. 

I judged it likely that the moment we were missed, the launch would besent off in search of us, and that the Germans would search the narrowpassage first. They would expect us to take the narrow passage, as theshortest, and depend on their ability to steam a dozen miles an hour tooverhaul us, even should we get a long start on the outside course. 

With gaining wind, a following sea, a little ship crowded tosuffocation, and a sail that might blow to shreds at any minute, it wasnot long before I began to pray for the lee of Ukerewe, and to stand incloser toward where I judged the end of the island ought to be thanperhaps I should have done. It was lucky, though, that I did. 

In making calculations I had overlooked the obvious fact that, steamingthree miles to our one, the launch could very well afford to take theoutside course to start with. Then they could take a good look for usin the open water next morning, and, failing to find us, steam allaround Ukerewe, come back down the inside passage, and catch us betweentwo banks. 

It was Lady Saffren Waldon on my left hand, looking anywhere but at hermaid and sweeping the dark waste of water with eyes as restless as thewaves themselves, who gave the first alarm. 

"What is that light?" she asked me. 

Following the direction of her hand I saw a red glow on the water toour left, not more than a mile behind. 

"Reflection from the burning town, " I answered, but I had no soonersaid it than I knew the answer was foolish. It was the glow that ridesabove hot steamer funnels in the night. 

"Fred!" I shouted, for fear took hold of the very roots of my heart, "for the love of God make every one keep silence! Show no lights!Don't speak above a whisper! Keep all heads below the gunwale! Thatcursed German launch is after us!"

We were in double danger. I could hear surf pounding on rocks tostarboard. I did not dare to come up into the wind because nobody butI knew how the spar would have to be passed around the mast, and in anycase the noise and the fluttering sail might attract attention. 

"Look out for breakers ahead!" I ordered. "I'm going to hold thiscourse and hope they pass us in the dark!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"DAVID PREVAILED" (I. Sam. 17:50)

Be glad if ye know the accursed thing And know it accurst, for the Gift is yoursOf Sight where the prophets of blindness sing By the brink of death. And the Gift endures;Ye shall see the last of the sharpened lies That rivet privilege's gripe. Be still, then, ye with the opened eyes, Come away from the thing till the time is ripe. 

Be glad that ye loathe the accursed thing, It is given to you to foreknow the end. But they who the unwise challenge fling Shall startle foe at the risk of friendAs yet unready to endure - And can ye fend Goliath's swipe?The slowly grinding mills are sure, Let terror alone till the time is ripe. 

Be glad when the shout for the spoils, and the glee, The hoofs and the wheels of the prophets of wrong, Out thunder the warning of what shall be; Be still, for the tumult is not for long. The Finger that wrote, from a polished wall As surely the closed account shall wipe;The accursed thing ye feared shall fall To a boy with a sling when the time is ripe. 

If the dhow had been seaworthy; if the crew had understood the riggingand the long unwieldy spar; if we had had any chart, or had knownanything whatever of the coast; if nobody had been afraid; and, aboveall, if that incessant din of surf pounding on rocks not far away tostarboard had not threatened disaster even greater than the Germans inthe steam launch, our problem might have been simple enough. 

But every one was afraid, including me who held the tiller (and thelives of all the party) in my right hand. Lady Saffren Waldondisguised fear under an acid temper and some villainously bad advice. 

"Steer toward them!" she kept shouting in my ear. "Steer toward them!Ram them! Sink them!"

Coutlass, on my other hand, made feverish haste with his love-affair, fearful lest discovery by the Germans should postpone forever theassuaging of his hungry heart's desire. 

"Steer toward shore!" he urged me. "Who cares if we run on rocks?Can't we swim? Gassharamminy! Take to the land and give them a runfor it!"

He seized the tiller to reinforce the argument, and wrenched at ituntil I hit him, and Fred threatened him with the only rifle. 

"Get up forward!" Fred ordered; but Georges Coutlass would not go. 

"Gassharamminy!" he snarled. "You want my girl! I will fight the wholedamned crew before I let her out of the hollow of my arm. 

"All right, touch that tiller again and I'll kill you!" Fred warned him. 

"Touch my girl, and you kill me or get out and swim!" Coutlass retorted. 

Will was up forward with Brown, looking out for breakers through thespray that swept over us continually. I watched the glow that rodeabove the launch's funnel, marveling, when I found time for it, at themystery of why the cotton sail should hold. The firm, somewhere inConnecticut, who made that export calico, should be praised by name, only that the dye they used was much less perfect than the stuff andworkmanship; their trademark was all washed out. 

Suddenly Will dodged under the bellying sail, throwing up both hands, and he and Brown screamed at me: "To your left! Go to your left!Rocks to the right!"

The Germans had passed us, but not by much, for the short steep seaswere tossing their propeller out of the water half the time. Becauseof the course I had taken the wind was setting slightly from us towardthem, and I could have sworn they heard Will's voice. Yet there wasnothing for it but to put the helm over, and as I laid her nearlybroadside to the wind a great wave swept us. At that the Greek, theGoanese, and all the natives in the hold set up a yell together thatought to have announced our presence to the Seven Sleepers. 

I held the helm up, and let her reel and wallow in the trough. Now Icould see the fangs of rock myself and the white waves raging aroundthem. See? I could have spat on them! There was a current there thatset strongly toward the rocks, for a backwash of some sort helped thehelm and we won clear, about a third full of water, with the crew toopanicky to bail. 

"Hold her so!" yelled Fred in my ear. "Don't ease up yet! If we gettoo close and they see us, I've the rifle! They haven't seen us yet!"

"Rocks ahead again!" yelled Will. "To the left again!"

We were in the gaping jaws of a sort of pocket, and it was too late tosteer clear. 

"Throw the anchor over!" I roared, "and let go everything. 

Will attended to the anchor. Fred was too anxious for the safety ofthe only rifle to trust it out of hand, and he hesitated. GeorgesCoutlass saved the day by letting go the shivering Syrian maid andslashing at the halyard with his knife. Down came the great spar witha crash, and as the dhow swung round in answer to anchor and helm, Fred, Will and Brown, between them, contrived to save the sail, Browncomplaining that we were the first sailors he ever heard of who did nothave rum served them for working overtime in dirty weather. 

So we lay, then, wallowing in the jaws of a crescent granite reef, andwatched the red glow above the German launch move farther and fartheraway from us. We waited there, wet and hungry, until dawn dimmed theflame from the burning roofs of Muanza, Lady Isobel Saffren Waldonloudly accusing us all at intervals of being rank incompetents unfit tobe trusted with the lives of fish, and Coutlass afraid of nothing butinterruption. The things he said to the maid, in English--the onlylanguage that they had apparently in common--would have scandalized aGoanese harbor "guide" or a Rock Scorpion from the lower streets ofGib. He did not mention marriage to her, beyond admitting that he hadhalf a dozen wives already, and had been too bored by convention everto submit to the yoke again. The maid seemed enraptured--delirious inthe bight of his lawless arm, forgetful of her wetting, and only afraidwhen he left her for a minute. 

We dared not try to cook anything, even supposing that had beenpossible. Forward was a box full of sand to serve as hearthstone, butthe little scraps of fuel we had brought with us were drenched andunburnable, even if the risk of being seen were not too great. LadySaffren Waldon told us we were "toe-rag contrivers. " In fact, now thatshe was out of reach of the men she feared and hated most, she revertedto type and tried to domineer over us all by the simple oldrecipe--audacious arrogance. Luckily, she slept for an hour or two. 

A little before dawn, when it began to be light enough to let us seethe outline of the shore, we sent Kazimoto aloft to reeve our hemp ropethrough the hole that did duty for block, and by the time the sun hadpushed the uppermost arc of his rim above the sky-line we once more hadthe sail set. 

The wind was still blowing a gale; the seamanlike precaution wouldhave been to lie where we were at anchor until fairer weather; butdaring is forced on the fearfullest, and there was nothing for it butto study out the method by which the unwieldy spar should be made topass the mast when tacking, drill Fred, Will, Brown and Kazimoto, andthen haul up the anchor and sail away before people on shore could seeus. 

We had to tack toward Muanza for a quarter of a mile with fear in ourarms to make them clumsy before I dared believe we were clear of thereefs; but when I put the helm down at last there was neither launchin sight nor any other boat that might contain an enemy. The southernspur of Ukerewe stuck out like a wedge into boiling water not manymiles ahead, and once around that we should be sheltered. The only flyin the ointment then was the probability that the launch would bewaiting for us just around the spur, or else under the lee of anothersmaller island in the offing to our left, but what we could not see inthat hour could not upset us much. 

Every one clamored for food. The porters, already forgetful of thechain that had galled them, and the whips that had flayed them day andnight, demanded to be set ashore to build a fire and eat. Lady SaffrenWaldon awoke to fresh bad temper, and Coutlass, too, grew villainouslyimpatient. His Greek friend, from under the shelter of the leakyreed-and-tarpaulin deck, offered him Greek advice, and was cursed forhis trouble. One curse led to another, and then they both had to bebeaten into subjection with the first thing handy, because when theyfought Lady Saffren Waldon egged them on and the maid tried to savagethe other Greek with a brooch-pin, which brought out the Goanese to therescue. That crowded dhow was no place for pitched battles, plungingand rolling between the frying-pan of Muanza and the fire of unknownthings ahead. 

"One more outbreak from you, and I shoot!" Fred announced, patting therifle. But, he did not mean it, and Coutlass knew he did not. TheEnglish temperament does not turn readily on even the most rascallyfellow beings in distress. Besides, it was an indubitable fact that weall much preferred Coutlass, with his daring record, and now a mostoutrageous love-affair on hand, to the other Greek or the Goanese, whowere now disposed to bid for our friendship by abusing him. GeorgesCoutlass was no drawing-room darling, or worthy citizen of any land, but he had courage of a kind, and a sort of splendid fire that made menforget his turpitude. 

We were a seasick, cold and sorry company that rounded the point atlast and came to anchor in a calm shallow bay where fuel grew closedown to the water's edge. Having no small boat, we had to wade ashoreand carry the women, Coutlass attending to his own inamorata. LadySaffren Waldon's picric acid rage exploded by being dropped between twoporters waist-deep into the water. It was her fault. She insisted onewas not enough, yet refused to explain how two should do the work ofone. Sitting on their two shoulders, holding on by their hair, shefrightened the left-hand man by losing her balance and clutching hisnose and eyes. She insisted on having both men flogged for havingdropped her, and Fred's refusal was the signal for new war, our rescueof her being flung at once on to the scrap heap of her memory. 

She counted with cold cynicism on our unwillingness to leave her againat the mercy of the Germans, and had no more consideration of ourrights or feelings than the cuckoo has for the owner of the nest inwhich she lays her eggs. 

"Beat those fools!" she ordered. "Beat them blue and give them nobreakfast!"

"Do you see that rock over there, Lady Waldon?" Fred answered. "Go andspread your clothes to dry. When we've cooked food we'll send Rebeccato you with your share. "

"If you send that slut to me I will kill her!" she answered, flyinginto a new fury. 

"Whom do you call slut?" demanded Coutlass (and he had no compunctionsof any kind--particularly none about women, and calling names. He wassimply feeling gallant after his own fashion, and alert for a chance toshow off. ) Lady Waldon backed away from him. 

"Of course, " she sneered, "if you loose your bully at me, I am no matchat all!"

Fred promptly kicked Coutlass until he ran limping out of range, to sitand nurse his bruises with polyglot profanity. The Syrian Rebecca wentover to comfort him, and eying the two of them with either malice orelse calculation (it was impossible to judge which) Lady Waldonretreated toward the rock that Fred had pointed out. 

We cooked a miserable meal, neither daring to make too great inroadinto our stores before making sure we could replenish them, nor caringto make more smoke than we could help. We hoped to escape being seeneven by natives, but Lady Waldon upset that part of our plan by settingup such a scream when she saw three islanders crossing a ridge threehundred yards away, that they could not help hearing her, and came toinvestigate. She was forced to dress faster than ever in her lifebefore, and came running to demand that we flog all three "to teachthem manners. " She had perfectly absorbed the German attitude towardall black men. 

>From the natives we learned that there was no telegraph wire alongthat coast, and that the only German settlements were semi-permanentcamps where they were cutting wood, for fuel for their own launch andfor the steamers the British were building to serve the lake ports, Muanza included. 

With that good news for encouragement we made the three natives a smallpresent in the vain hope that they might be induced not to talk aboutus, and put to sea again. The weather was fairer and growingintolerably hot. Even before the sun grew high the dhow was acomfortless indecent thing, more crowded than anything Noah can havehad to tolerate: and we lacked Noah's faith in omniscient guidance, inaddition to sailing in a hotter latitude, and having more fleas onboard than the pair he is reported to have carried. 

As we crept up-coast, leaning to this or that side when the gusts ofwind varied, the only enviable ones were the three in the bow, postedthere to keep a look-out for the launch or any other enemy. They hadroom enough to sit without touching one another, and air to breathethat mostly had not been tasted half a dozen times. Fred, Will andBrown took turns commanding the foredeck look-out, keeping it awake andits units from quarreling. The rest of us found no joy in life, andnot too much hope even when Fred's concertina lifted the refrain ofmissionary hymn-tunes that even the porters knew, and most of us sang, the porters humming wordless melancholy through their noses. (Whenthat happened Lady Saffren Waldon's scorn was something thearch-priests of Babylon would have paid to see. )

There was never room on the tiny after-deck for more than six peoplesitting elbow to elbow and back to back or knee to knee. Lady Waldonsimply refused to yield her corner seat on any account at any time toany one. Coutlass refused to leave his new sweetheart, for thefreely-voiced reason that then Brown might make love to her; and wedid not care to send both of them below for obvious reasons. Thatreduced open-air accommodation to a minimum, because thereed-and-tarpaulin deck was scarcely strong enough to bear the weightof two men at a time, and we did not care to throw the whole deckoverboard for fear of rain. 

And by-and-by the rain came--out of season, but no less violent becauseof that. It rained three days and nights on end--three windless daysand starless nights, during which we had to linger alongshore close tothe papyrus. In order to keep mosquitoes out we had to light a smudgein the sand-box below. The smudge added to the heat, and the heatdrove men to the open air to gasp a few minutes in the rain for breathand go down again to make room for the next in turn. 

Sleep on shore was impossible, for thereabouts were crocodile and snakeswamps, fuller of insect life than dictionaries are of letters. Polingwas next to impossible, because the soft mud bottom gave no purchase. And the oars we made out of poles were clumsy affairs; there was notroom for more than two boys to try to use them at a time, even if thedeck would have stood the strain of more feet, which it certainly wouldnot have done. 

Lady Waldon slept seated in her corner, with her head wrapped in a veilover which the mosquitoes prospected in gangs. Coutlass and hislady-love endured rain and insects in the open, too, but suffered less, because of mutual distraction. The rest of us took turns with thenatives below, lying packed between them, much as sardines nestle in acan, wondering whether the famous Black Hole of Calcutta was reallysuch a record-breaker as they say. Brown was of the opinion that theBlack Hole was a nosegay compared to our lot --"Besides which, theyprobably had rum with 'em!" he added. 

Some of the porters grew sick under the strain of heat, fear, excitement and inactivity. The native suffers as much fromunaccustomed inconvenience as the white man, and more from closeconfinement. The third night out the man next me began coughing, shaking my frame as much as his own as he racked himself, for we werewedged together with only the thickness of his blanket and mine betweenus, and I was jammed tight against the ship's side. Toward morning hegrew quiet--grew colder, too. When dawn came we found that he hadcoughed up the most of his lungs on my white English blanket. 

I gave them the blanket to bury him in, and we poled the Queen of Shebainshore to find a place to dig a hole, leaving the body stretched onsome tree-roots while we prospected. We should have known enough bythat time to leave four or five men on guard close by; as it was, whenthe men still on board the dhow began kicking up a babel, Fred and Icame running and jumping back through the marsh just in time to see acrocodile wriggle off into the water, with the corpse in his jaws feetfirst. Fred fired a shotted salute, but missed, and that ended thatfuneral. 

By day we passed villages on higher ground, where we might haveprocured more food if we had dared run the risk of meeting Germans. Itwas likely enough the villagers were so used to dhows that they wouldnot trouble to report having seen us in the distance; but it wasperfectly certain that if we paid them a visit they would pass wordalong from mouth to mouth with that astonishing, undiscoverable easethat is at once the blessing and bane of governments. 

So Fred wasted hot hours with the only rifle, trying to hunt meat on ashore where all the four-legged game had been ran down by the natives, or butchered by the German machine-guns long ago (for to teach Sudanesemercenaries the art of rapid fire in action their officers marched themout to practise on herds of antelope. There was game in plenty awayfrom the lake, but none where the German officer could convenientlypractise his profession. )

We tried to shoot ducks and geese; but a rifle at long range is notthe best weapon for that sport. We shot very few, and then only todiscover the invincible repugnance natives have to eating "dagi" asthey call all birds. We kept ourselves alive, but did not solve theproblem of the ever-diminishing supplies of rice for our men. 

Somebody thought of fishing. We found hooks in a crevice in the Queenof Sheba's bow, and made lines from a frayed rope. But although theshore was lined with traps in which the inhabitants no doubt took fishin proper season, all that we caught was one miserable finny specimen, all head and mouth and tail, that the natives said would poison any onewho ate it. The truth was, of course, that they preferred rice toanything, and, African native-like, would eat nothing else as long asrice was to be had, having no earthly notions of economy. When therice was all gone on the fifth day out of Muanza they raided a bananaplantation before we knew what they were up to, and came back gorged, with bunches enough to feed them for two or three more days. 

The fat was in the fire then, of course. We paid the ownershandsomely, giving them their choice of money or blankets when theybore down on us in long canoes demanding vengeance. They voted forblankets and money, but vowed they would far rather have the bananas, because now their own people would be on short commons to make up forthe surfeit of ours. 

We left them never doubting that they would send word to the nearestGerman officer. (They told us there was a wood-cutting station within a"few hours, " and we prayed he might be only a non-commissioned man incharge of it, but knew that prayer was too sweetly reasonable to beanswered where the German Gott makes war on foreigners. ) Kazimotoassured us he heard them telling one another they would make complaintagainst us within the day. 

It remained, then, only to guess where that steam launch might be. Wewere approaching the northern end of Ukerewe, not a day's sail, if thelight wind held, from the narrow mouth of the channel between Ukereweand the mainland. That was the likeliest place for the launch to liein wait; it was where we would have waited had we been pursuers andthey the pursued. So we decided after a council of war to put the helmover and sail almost due westward, hoping to meet with an island wherewe might stop for a few days, catch fish and dry them, and caulk theleaky dhow, without the risk of letting the Germans know ourwhereabouts. (It is a peculiar fact that whatever the native secretsystem of transferring messages may be, it does not work across water. )

Not all the little gods of Africa were fighting for the Germans, although it began to seem so. An hour after putting up the helm wesighted a school of hippopotami--fifty at least, and for half a day wechased them, Fred trying to shoot one until Will and I objected tofurther waste of ammunition. A dead hippo would have provided us withmeat enough for a month for the whole ship's company. We could havetowed the carcass ashore somewhere and dried the meat in slabs. Butthe glare on the water made shooting very nearly impossible (Fred'seyes were sore from it); and if we should meet the Germans thoseremaining cartridges would be our only hope. But the diversion took usout of sight of land, and that stood us in better stead presently thantons of fresh meat. 

Whether the Germans heard us, or were merely quartering that part ofthe lake in wait, we never knew. Probably they heard the shooting inthe distance and gave chase. At any rate, within ten minutes of Fred'slast wasted shot Coutlass caught sight of smoke and announced the factwith his favorite oath. 

"Gassharamminy! The launch!"

At first we were all in a stew because there was no land near, where wemight have beached the dhow and scattered. It was an hour before ouradvantage of position dawned on us, and all the while the launchapproached us leisurely. She had plenty of fuel; the wood was piledhigh above her gunwale in a stack toward the stern; but those on boardher seemed to take more pleasure in contemplation of ourdefenselessness than in speed. She steamed twice around us slowlybefore closing in; and then we made out Schillingschen's hairy shape, leaning against the cord-wood with a rifle between his hands. 

"Shoot him! Shoot him, by Jiminy!" urged Coutlass, but Fred was not soprevious as that. We were not yet on the defensive. We counted fiverifles, in addition to Schillingschen's protruding above the launch'sside, and we all took cover in the hope either that they might decidewe were not the dhow they waited for, or else that they might come veryclose out of curiosity. For Fred had a plan of his own. Rifle inhand, he crawled under the hot tarpaulin and lay flat on the reed deck, Will crawling after him to snatch the rifle in case Fred should be hit. 

"Steer straight toward 'em!" Fred called to me, as soon as it wasevident that the launch did not intend to pass us by. "Keep headedtoward them!"

That was not easy in the light wind, until Schillingschen tired ofstaring at us and gave an order to the engineer. Then they laid thelaunch broadside on to our bow at about two hundred yards' range, andwithout a word of warning opened fire on us from all six rifles, Schillingschen devoting his first attention to myself at the helm. 

Our lone rifle cracked in reply, but they could not see Fred and didnot guess where to shoot in order to search him out. They came nonearer, but circled slowly around us, only Schillingschen's bulletsappearing to come anywhere near the target, until a yell from belowshowed what their real plan was and I understood why the sail was notripped and no bullets whistled overhead. They were shootingthrough the planking of the dhow, endeavoring to massacre the helplesscrowd below, and no doubt to sink her and drown us as soon as she wasfull enough of holes. 

A wounded Nyamwezi came scrambling on deck, spouting blood from hisneck and crazed with fear. He jumped overboard and tried to swimtoward the launch, but one of the Germans hit him in the head at thethird shot and he disappeared. Then one of Schillingschen's elephantbullets slit my sleeve, and the next one pierced my helmet. 

"Put one into Schillingschen, Fred!" I shouted, but Fred did notanswer. He kept up a very steady succession of shots that were doingno good at all that I could see. 

Another German bullet found its mark below deck in the thigh of theGoanese. He might have known enough to lie quiet, having some allegedwhite blood in him, but instead he, too, came struggling to theafter-deck, bellowing like a mad-man. Coutlass knocked him back belowwith a blow on the chin, and he there and then threw the whole crowdinto a panic by screaming and kicking. They all began to try to swarmtogether through the narrow opening, and those in the rear tore at thereed deck. 

Into that pandemonium went Coutlass, armed with nothing but Hellenicfury, thoughtful of nothing but his lady-love--surely reckless of hisown skin. He beat, kicked, bit, scragged, banged their foolish headstogether, cursed, spat, gouged, and strangled as surely no catamountever did. Brown leaped in to lend a hand, and into the midst of thatinferno three more bullets penetrated, each wounding a man. LadyWaldon, mad with some idiotic strategy of her own sudden devising, seized the tiller and tried to wrench it from my hand. The SyrianRebecca, imagining new treachery and fearful for her Greek lover, triedto prevent her with teeth and nails. The Germans raised a war-whoop ofwild enjoyment. And just at the height of all that, Fred'sthree-and-twentieth shot went home. 

There was a loud report, followed by instant nothing except stampede onthe part of the Germans to get out of reach of something. Then thesomething grew denser; invisible hot vapor became a pall of steam thatbid the launch from view, three more shots from Fred's rifle findingthe proper mark by sheer accident, for there was another explosion;the cloud increased and the launch stopped dead. 

"That gray sheet of metal wasn't her boiler at all!" Fred shouted backto me. "The first shot pierced the boiler when I found out where toaim! I think three of them are scalded badly--hope so!--high pressuresteam--superheated--did you see? Now leave 'em to find their own wayhome!"

"See if you can't get Schillingschen!" said I. 

But Schillingschen was invisible in the white cloud, and Fred refusedto waste one of the half-dozen cartridges remaining. The light windthat bore us away from the launch also spread the screen of steambetween us and them. A shot or two from Schillingschens rifle provedhim to be still alive, and still determined, but missed us by so muchthat we began to dare to sit upright. Then Fred went below to sort outwounded men, plug holes in the dhow, and stop the panic, and we allprayed for wind with a fervor they never exceeded in Nelson's fleet. 

When Will had gone below to help Fred, the panic had ceased, two deadmen had been thrown overboard, and six of the crew had been set to workbailing in deadly earnest to keep ahead of the new leaks, there wastime to consider the position and to realize how hugely better off wewere than if the launch had caught us somewhere close inshore. Now wecould sail safely northward, every puff of wind carrying us nearer toBritish water and safety, whereas unless they could mend thathigh-pressure boiler, they would have to lie there for a week, or amonth--die unless some one came in search of them. Had we holed theirboiler near the shore they would have been able to take to the landuntil they found canoes. Good canoes, well manned, could haveoverhauled us hand over fist like terriers after a rat. 

It was fifteen minutes yet before we were out of rifle range, andSchillingschen tried to make the most of them when the steam thinned, exposing his beefy carcass recklessly. But by the time it had thinneddown sufficiently to let him really see us we were too far away to makesure shooting. He slit the sail, giving us half a night's work to mendit, and made three more holes in our planking, but hurt nobody. 

That was the only launch the German government had on the lake in thosedays, an almost perfect toy with an aluminum hull and more up-to-dategadgets on her machinery than a battleship's engineer could haveexplained the purpose of in a watch. They had lavished a wholeappropriation on one show. From the minute we were out of range ofSchillingschen's big-bore elephant gun we ran risk of starvation, andperhaps surprise, but no longer of pursuit, and we headed the Queen ofSheba as nearly as we could guess for British East with feelings thateven Lady Waldon shared, for she grew distantly polite again, andcomplimented Fred on his cool nerve and accurate shooting. 

We should have suspected treachery, for she made no attempt toretaliate on Rebecca for scratching her face. Unnatural inactionshould have put us on our guard. She even went so far as to complimentthe maid on "finding such a great, strong, brave man as Coutlass tocherish her. " The Greek simply cooed at that--threw out his greatchest and rearranged with his fingers the whiskers that had almosttotally disguised him. 

(There was not one of us but looked like a pirate by that time. Thenatives of that part of Africa shave every particle of hair from theirbodies whenever they get the chance, and prefer their heads as shinyand naked as any other part of them. But the German prison system, devised to break the spirit of whoever came within its clutches, included prohibition of shaving, so that we had the woolliest crowd ofpassengers imaginable. )

We found it impossible to help being sorry for Lady Waldon, or even forthe maid, who suffered in spite of Coutlass's kisses and strong arms. The obvious fact that the dhow was no place for a woman made usoverlook the conduct of both of them over and over again, shutting eyesand ears to Lady Waldon's meanness and the maid's increasing impudence. 

Lady Waldon actually began to set her own cap at Coutlass, encouraginghim to boast to the porters, and pretending to admire the gift withwhich he told them tales in Kiswahili that would have made even herblush if she had understood the half of them. At intervals the maidgrew jealous, and had to be kissed back to serenity by Coutlass, whowas no less in love with her because of any mere addition to the numberof his interests. He could have made hot love to six women, and haveenjoyed it. There were times when he really flattered himself thatLady Waldon admired his looks and fine physique. 

Food was now the chief concern. We trailed a fishing line behind us, but caught nothing. Brown said there were too many crocodiles for fishto be plentiful, but on the other hand, Kazimoto, who surely shouldhave known, swore that the water was full of big fish, and that theislanders lived on little else. Whatever the truth of it, we caughtnothing; and when we reached an island whose shore was lined withfish-traps made of stakes and basket-work we searched all the traps invain. The natives we saw in the distance all ran away from us, andthere were no crops that we could see of any kind, which rather boreout Kazimoto's story. 

"Crocks' eggs are what those savages eat, I tell you!" Brown insisted. "They're wholesome and don't taste worse than a rotten hen's egg. " Weoffered him his own price if he would eat one himself in the presenceof us all; but hungry though we were all beginning to be, he refused, and we needed his example. 

After that first island we began to sail among a regular archipelago, most of them scarcely better than granite rocks on which the crocodilescould crawl to sun themselves, but some of them a half-mile long, orlonger. Nearly all of them were barren, but at last, when we judgedourselves well inside the British portion of the lake, we came on avery large one that had a mountain in the middle of it, and contained afair-sized village hidden among trees. 

It was dark, and we were all famished when we reached it, so when wehad poled the dhow into a little bay between granite boulders bigenough to hide her, mast and all, we went ashore, made fires, andserved out the last handfuls of rice, skimping our own allowance toincrease those of the porters, whose larger stomachs afforded vasteryearning power. They were pitiably meager rations--a mere jest--aninsult to hungry men; but we found before we had cooked and finishedthem that we had witnesses who thought us fortunate. 

They came so silently that even the porters did not notice them atfirst--gaunt black shadows flitting in the deeper shadows, and comingpresently to squat outside the edge of the circle of firelight, until atribe, men, women and little children, were all gathered around usburning up the darkness with their eyes. 

They were hungrier than we! Our food, that looked so scant to us, tothem was a very feast of the gods! They all had pieces of leather orplaited grass drawn tight around their middles to lessen the pangs ofhunger, and the chief, who sat rather apart from the rest, gnawed at apiece of bark. 

None of them wore any clothes. Those that had goat-skin aprons hadthem on behind, and they were as free from self-consciousness as thetrees in winter. Some of them had spears, and they all had knives, yetnone offered violence, or as much as begged. There were three or fourhundred of them, at the lowest reckoning, yet they allowed us to finishour meal in the dark in peace. 

There was nothing to say when we had finished. We knew what the matterwas, and they knew we knew. We had nothing to share with them, andthey knew that, for they could see the empty rice bags that the portershad shaken and beaten to get out the very dust. We did not know theirlanguage; even Kazimoto professed himself ignorant of any dozen wordsthat could unlock their understanding. 

Presently, under the eyes of all of them, Fred got out the rifle fromits wrappings and proceeded to clean and oil it carefully, as everygenuine hunter should before he sleeps. 

Then it was evident at once that new hope for some reason had been bornamong that silent crowd. The chief, uninvited, drew nearer and watchedevery detail of Fred's husbandry with glittering eye. 

"Give him the oily rag to suck!" suggested Brown, but that proved notto be the key to his interest, for he thrust the rag back into Fred'shand and motioned to him to continue cleaning. 

Finally Fred examined the last handful of cartridges carefully one byone, and filled the magazine. Then, after making sure the sights werein order, he began to wrap the rifle again. 

But at that the chief held out a lean long arm and stopped him. Coutlass sprang to his feet in a hurry, imagining that was a signal toattack at last, but Fred ordered him to sit down, and Lady Waldon, whoseemed possessed for the once by uncanny calmness, asked him to giveher an arm to the dhow, where she proposed to try to sleep. Coutlassfelt flattered, and obeyed. The maid got up and followed them both ina fury of jealousy, and they three were lost to view in a moment amongthe shadows cast by our four flickering fires. The other Greek got upand followed them, leaving the Goanese already snoozing by the fire. 

Then, just as the half of a brilliantly pale moon rose above thepapyrus, the chief came a pace nearer and touched Fred's hand. Then hebeckoned. Then he touched the hand again and retreated backward. Glancing around I saw the shadows that were his tribe leaning toward usin strained attention, with eyes for nothing but their chief and Fred. Understanding there was something that the chief desired him to go anddo, Fred passed the rifle to Will and rose to his feet. 

With patience that was simply pathetic the chief shook his head andtried to explain something in weary-motioned pantomime. Fred took therifle back from Will. The chief nodded. Fred started to follow him, and then the whole tribe sighed, with a sound like the evening windrustling through the papyrus. 

It being clear now that he was to shoot something, Fred took thewrappings off the rifle, threw them to me, and walked into the dark, the chief trotting ahead like a phantom and glancing back to beckonabout once a minute. Not caring to miss the play, we followed inIndian file, I bringing up the rear. 

The whole tribe rose at once and flitted along beside us on ourlandward side. We could not hear a footfall, or a breath. They passedthrough dry grass without rustling, neither stumbling nor crowding oneanother, but all so governed by one all-absorbing thought that theyacted in absolute unison. That the thought was food did not, even intheir starving state, make them forget the crowning need for silence. We with our leather boots made more noise than all they together. 

We passed along the lake shore for half a mile, until suddenly thechief, looking tall as a stripped tree in the pale uncertain light, threw up an arm and waved it in a circle. Instantly the whole tribevanished. It was as if a puff of wind had blown them; or as if theyhad been figures thrown on a screen by a magic lantern and suddenlyswitched off at the performer's whim. Then the chief continued forward, we marching more carefully. 

Now he turned to the half-right and followed a narrow track across aneck of land that jutted out into the lake. We approached a low rise, and as he drew near the top of that he went down on hands and knees, crawling up the last few yards so cautiously that I had to stare hardto be sure he was there at all. 

As soon as Fred came near he made frantic signals to him to get downand crawl too; so we all knelt down and crawled behind Fred, strivingto make no noise and filling the unhappy chief so full of fury at thenoise we did make that he writhed in nervous torment. 

On top of the rise Fred stopped and in imitation of the chief thrusthis head forward very gradually. One by one we followed suit until, lying prone in line along the ridge within thirty paces of the water, we saw at last what we were after. 

Bathed in the moonlight, head and shoulders clear of the mirror-likewater, a great bull hippopotamus surveyed the scenery, drinking incontentment through his little placid eyes. Out there nothing troubledhim, as for instance the mosquitoes troubled us. He had eaten hisfill, for some sort of green stuff hung from his jaws; and he wasbeginning to feel sleepy, for be opened his enormous mouth and yawnedstraight toward us--three tons of meat on the hoof, less than a hundredyards away, stock-still, and unsuspicious!

The chief began whispering unintelligible warnings in a voice so lowthat it sounded like the drone of insects. Fred thrust the rifleforward inch by inch and, taking his time about it, settled himselfcomfortably for the shot. It was no easy shot in that uncertain lightat a downward angle. The glare of the sun on the lake had troubled hiseyes during the last few days. The shimmer of the moonlight wasdeceptive now. I wished he would pass the rifle to Will, or even toBrown of Lumbwa, who was digging his fingers into the earth beside mein almost uncontrollable excitement. But Fred was unperturbed, and thechief, who was nervous enough to detect the slightest sign ofnervousness in Fred, did not seem to mistrust him for one second. 

Three times I saw Fred breathe deeply, as if about to squeeze thetrigger, but each time he was only "makkin' sikkar, " and eased hislungs again. The target a hippo offers to a Mauser rifle bullet is notmuch more than half the size of a man's hand, including only the earand eye and the narrow space between them. By daylight at a hundredyards that is nothing for a cool shot to complain about, but inhalf-moonlight, at that angle, it is none too much. I swore silently, wishing again and again that Fred would pass the rifle to Will, or toBrown--or to me! Yet if he had passed it to me I should have trembledworse than any one. 

Visions began to haunt me of what would happen if Fred should miss!What would the effect be on wild folk tortured by hunger and keyed tothe pitch of frenzy by suspense? Then, even while we watched, anotherproblem added itself. Over on the water there began to come a wind, driving ripples and little waves in front of it. The moment those camenear the hippo be would vanish from view, for they only care formoonlight when they can see it mirrored on a perfectly still surface

I cursed Fred between set teeth, almost loud enough for him to hear me; for the hippo did move. His head was a foot nearer water-level; hehad seen or heard something that alarmed him. He was in the act ofsinking under water when Fred made sure of the sights at last and therifle spoke, ringing out into the still night like the crack ofJudgment Day, more startling because we had waited so long for it insuch suspense. 

Instantly the amazing happened. A yell burst out behind us that splitthe night apart. Where stilly blackness had been, now four or fivehundred crazy shadows leaped and danced, murdering the silence withmarrow-curdling noises intended to express joy. 

Out on the water the stricken hippo pitched head downward and plungedlike a mountain of meat gone mad, thrashing up great waves that weredarkened with his life-blood. A whole herd, several hundred strong, emerged shoulder-high from the water to take one swift look at him andflee. The arriving wind overswept the little whirlpools they all madein the moonlight, as they dived to seek seclusion somewhere and nodoubt to choose themselves a new bully after terrific fighting. 

Our quarry plunged a last time, and stayed under. Now was new anxiety. In twenty minutes or half an hour he should rise to the surface again, but no man could guess where, and the wind and currents would veryswiftly hide his great carcass somewhere amid the acres of papyrusunless sharp eyes were alert. 

But the papyrus was friend as well as foe. In a space of time to bemeasured by seconds the yelling young men of the tribe had uncoveredthree canoes, hidden from marauding enemies among themore-than-man-high reeds, and the rest of the tribe--men, women andyoung ones--scattered along the shore to watch from between the stalks. 

In less than fifteen minutes some one yelled, and even the very oldmen, who had stayed beside us to gape at Fred's rifle and our clothesand boots, began running like hares toward the sound. In twentyminutes after that, with the aid of grass ropes and leather thongs, they had hauled the huge carcass to the shore and rolled it out of thewater, where it lay glistening in moonlight, stumpy, foolish, legsuppermost. 

The butcher's work----the feast--did not begin yet. There wastime-honored custom to obey, which Kazimoto knew all about even ifthose ignorant wachenzie* would have fallen to without ceremony. Hedrove them off. A white man had slain that animal; therefore thewhite man's choice of meat was first, and he very leisurely andskillfully cut out the enormous tongue for us and fifty pounds of meatfor our following before he would let them as much as touch the carcasswith a dagger. [* Plural of machenzie, "man from 'way back, '""rube, " "simp. "]

Then, though, the tribe fell to, naked, with little nakedknives--tearing off the thick hide in foot-wide strips, and hacking thered flesh into lumps that they ate, raw and quivering, while theyworked. The little bits of children, each chewing raw bloody meat, brought baskets for the overflow, dragging them to wherever they couldfind a space between the legs of struggling men, the women emptying thebaskets almost as fast as the children filled them, and chewing untiltheir jaws ran blood. 

Nothing was wasted. The blood was caught in pools in part of the hide, spread like an apron on the earth, and lapped up by whoever could getto it. The very guts were gathered up in baskets to be cooked. Andwhere the last little soft iron dagger had done its work, the blood hadbeen drunk, and the last scrap of hide bad been cut into strips, to bechewed when the meat and its memory were things of the past, theenormous ribs lay glistening in the moonlight like those of anabandoned wreck, picked as clean as if the kites had done it. 

"Have we done a commendable thing?" laughed Fred, looking at thecrowd's distended paunches. "There's a good bull hippo the less. We've saved the lives for a time of several hundred gluttons. Theyknow neither grace nor gratitude. "

But he was wrong. They did. They brought Fred a woman--their fattest, ugliest; which means she was skin and bone and uglier than Want, alsoshe was more afraid of Fred than Satan is said to be of shriving. Thechief led her by the hand, she hanging back and hiding her face underone arm (which left the rest of her nakedness unprotected). He seizedFred's hand and put the woman's in it. 

"Now you're spliced!" Brown explained. "Married to the gal forever inpresence of legal witnesses!"

Kazimoto confirmed the fearful news. 

"Married in regular form an' accord with tribal custom!" Browncontinued, nodding solemnly. 

"Divorce me--soon and swiftly, somebody!" Fred demanded. 

We appealed to Kazimoto for information, but only threw him into aquandary, and he proceeded to add to ours. The usual price for awoman, it seemed, was cows--many or few according as she was lovely orher father rich. In case of divorce, custom decreed that the cows withtheir offspring should be given back. The objection to any otherproperty than cows changing hands to bind or loose in wedlock was thatfood, for instance, when eaten was not returnable. 

"Married to the gal for good an! all!"' Brown grinned, nudging Will andme to note Fred's consternation. "You'd better stay here an' take thechief's job when he kicks the bucket--possibly you can speed the day byoverfeedin' him!"

"Some men's luck, " Will murmured, but stopped in mid-sentence, forinterruption came in the form of a weird figure, gesticulating like awindmill, stumbling and careening through the gloom, shouting as itcame. Not until it was thirty yards away did an intelligible soundexplain at least who the apparition was. 

"Gassharamminy! Give me that gun!"

Coutlass burst in among us so out of breath that he could not forcethrough his teeth another rational syllable, but he made his intentionspartly clear by snatching at Fred's rifle, persisting until Will and Ipulled him off. 

"The dhow's gone!" he panted at last. "Give me that rifle, or comeyourself! Hurry! There's a wind! You'll be too late!"

"You're dreaming or drunk!" Fred answered, but Coutlass refused to bedisbelieved, and in another moment we were all running as fast as wedared through the darkness toward the camp-fires, where we had left theGoanese snoozing and the dhow snugly moored among the rocks. 

The chief and his followers far outdistanced us in spite of theirgorged condition--all except the woman, who jogged dutifully, althoughunhappily, behind Fred. When we reached the campfires they werestanding gazing out on the lake, where we could just make out thebellying sail of the Queen of Sheba leaning like a phantom away fromthe gaining wind. The distance was not to be judged in that weakuncertain light. We all shouted together, but there came no answer andwe could not tell whether the sound carried as far as the dhow or not. 

"Gassharamminy!--why don't you shoot!" shouted Coutlass, dancing up anddown the bank in frenzy. "Give me that rifle! I'll show you! I'llteach them!"

I believe I would have fired if the rifle had been in my hands. Brown, last to arrive and most out of breath, joined with Coutlass in angryshouts for vengeance. Will offered no argument against sending them aparting shot. Fred set the butt of the rifle down with a determinedsnort, walked over toward the fire, stirred the embers, threw on morefuel, and looked about him when the dry wood blazed. 

"If she has left as much as one blanket among the lot of us, I don'tsee it anywhere!" he said, taking his seat on a rock. 

"A blanket?" sneered Coutlass. "She has even your money! Worse thanthat--she has my woman! You were a gum-gasted galoot not to shoot ather!"

Fred patted the bulging pocket of his shooting jacket. 

"Most of the money is here" he said quietly, and we all sighed withrelief. 

"Take canoes and chase them!" shouted Coutlass, beginning to dance upand down again. 

"There's time enough" Fred answered. "We know the winds of these partswell enough by this time. This will blow until midnight. Then calmuntil dawn. After dawn a little more wind for an hour or two, thendoldrums again until late afternoon. They'll run on a rock in alllikelihood. If they do we can catch them at our leisure, supposing wecan get these islanders to paddle. If it should blow hard, then wecan't catch them anyhow. Sit down and tell us what happened, Coutlass!"

The Greek cursed and swore and pranced, but all in vain. Fred wasinexorable. We others grew calmer when the problem of who shouldpaddle the canoes solved itself suddenly with the arrival of fourteenof our own men. Discovering themselves left behind, they had run alongthe bank in vain hope of catching the dhow somehow--perchance ofswimming through the crocodile-infested water, and returned nowdisconsolate, to leap and laugh with new hope at sight of us and of thered meat that Kazimoto had thrown on the ground near the fire. Theycame near in a cluster. Will hacked off a lump of meat for them, andthey forthwith forgot their troubles, as instantly as the birds forgetwhen a sparrow-hawk has done murder down a hedge-row and swooped away. 

Not everything was gone after all. Kazimoto found the pots we hadcooked the rice in, and started to boil the hippo's tongue for us. 

"Come, Coutlass--sit down before we eat and tell us what happened, "Fred suggested. 

The Greek paced up and down another time or two, and at last calmedhimself sufficiently to laugh at Fred's woman, who had squatted downpatiently in the shadow behind him. 

"Easy for you!" he grinned savagely, squatting on the far side of thefire. "You have a woman! Mine is God knows where! She said tome--that hell-damned Lady Saffren Waldon said to me--we sat all threetogether in the stern of the dhow, I with my arm around Rebecca, andshe said to me--"

"I'll see if I can't make a dicker for the chief's canoes, " Willinterrupted. "We can hear the Greek's tale any old time. "

"Trade my woman for them!" Fred suggested cheerfully. "Go on, Coutlass!"

The Greek gritted his teeth savagely. "She said--that hell-damned LadySaffren Waldon said, as we sat there in the dhow, 'How about thekicking Fred Oakes gave you on the island, Mr. Coutlass? Where is yourGreek honor?'--Do you see? She worked on my bodily bruises and myspiritual courage at the same time--the cunning hussy! 'That FredOakes will win this Rebecca away from you very soon!' she went on. 'Ihave watched him. "'

Fred smiled about as comfortably as a martyr on the grid. The presenceof the dusky damsel, confirmed by her smell behind him, made him touchyon the subject of sex. 

"Presently she said to me, 'I have my own affairs that will adjustthemselves all the better for their absence when I get to British East. As for you, they will simply report you to the authorities for raidingthose cattle of Brown's. Can you imagine that creature Brown forgivingyou? He will have you thrown in jail! Why wait? But we must notleave the Goanese or the other porters, and we must hurry! You go, 'she said, 'and send the Goanese and the rest of the porters on board!'

"So I did go. I kicked de Sousa awake, and he cursed me, because mytoe landed once or twice on his thigh where the bullet wounded him. Idrove him on board, and she put him to work with Kamarajes getting upthe sail. Then I went off to get those cursed porters. I could notfind them! The dogs had gone to the village, to find women I don'tdoubt! I tell you what I would do to them if they were mine!"

"Never mind that!" Fred cut in. We could all guess what form thepunishment would take. "Get on with the tale! You couldn't find theporters. What next?"

"I decided to leave the dogs behind, and serve them right! I went backto the dhow in a great hurry. She was gone! Vanished! Disappeared asif the lake had opened up and swallowed her! I could just see the sailin the distance. I shouted! No answer! I shouted again. I heardRebecca call to me! Then I heard laughter--Lady Isobel SaffrenWaldon's laughter! Gassharamminy! I will run red-hot skewers intothat woman when I catch her! Do you see how she has vengeance onRebecca? Do you see now why she took sides between me and Kamarajesand de Sousa? Do you see how she has plotted? What will she do now?What Will she do?"

He began to pace up and down again furiously, shaking both fists at theunresponsive stars. 

"She will do Rebecca an injury! She will give that girl to de Sousa orto that old Kamarajes! We shall never catch them! Gassharamminy! Oh, Absalom! You should have fired when I told you! That she-dog has atrick of some kind up her sleeve yet! How shall we catch her? Why dowe wait? Give me that rifle! I will take a canoe and go after themalone! You do not know what Greek spirit is! I am Americansometimes--English when it suits me--always Greek when I am wronged!"

"You certainly have been put upon" Fred answered. "Tell us how yourGreek spirit justified deserting us. "

"Why not?" snarled Coutlass. "Do you love me? What would you do to meif you could get me to British East in your power? You would hand meover as a cattle thief!"

"You bet I will!" admitted Brown of Lumbwa. "You dog, you've ruinedme!"

"What did I tell you?" demanded Coutlass. "Why, then, should I notlook out for myself?"

"I think we'd better leave you on this island, " Fred told him quietly. "We can't trust you out of sight. The only way to prevent you fromstealing this rifle and murdering us all would be to lie awake inturns. "

"Bah!" grinned the Greek, striding back toward the fire. "How manycartridges have you left? Five, eh? After I had murdered all of you, how many would remain?"

"You'll have to think of a better argument than that, " smiled Fred, andfor the first time I suspected he was speaking in deadly earnest. Coutlass suspected it, too, and grew still. The sweat burst out on hisface, and his eyes bulged from their sockets. 

"You will leave me here?" he stammered. 

Fred nodded, smiling up at him. 

"You see, you're such on all-in scoundrel!" Brown assured him. 

"You! You poor drunkard!" Coutlass turned his back on Brown, and facedFred squarely. "You are a man, Mr. Oakes! I can speak to you as to mybrother. "

Fred smiled blandly. 

"I will speak to you God's truth!"

Fred grinned. 

"I will tell you where the ivory is!"

Fred threw his head back and laughed outright. 

"I speak to you on my honor! That mother of misery, Lady SaffrenWaldon, stole a map from Shillingschen. Before I would agree to setthe town on fire I made her give me that for a hostage, lest she shouldprove treacherous and leave me behind after all! I have it now! It ismarked with a circle to show where Schillingschen believes the stuffmust be, because he has searched everywhere else!"

"If that map is worth anything, " Fred countered, "how did Lady SaffrenWaldon care to leave you behind with it?"

"The harridan forgot it!" answered Coutlass. "She was so delighted toget vengeance on Rebecca by taking her away from me that she did notcare for anything else! She hates you! She hates me! She hatesRebecca! Those who hate--as I can hate!--would rather have revengethan all the riches of Africa! Do you think I would hesitate betweenmoney and revenge on her?"

"All right, " Fred answered. "The map, then--what about it?"

"Take me with you and the map is yours!"

"Show it to me, then!"

"I must have a share of the ivory!"

"Show me the map first!"

Coutlass searched inside his flannel shirt--swiftly--moreswiftly--angrily. His jaw dropped. Even between the fire-light andthe moonlight one could judge that his color changed--and changed again. 

"Show me the map before we bargain!" Fred insisted. "Hurry, man!There's Mr. Yerkes with the canoe. We can't wait here all night!"

"It is gone!" admitted Coutlass. "Some one stole it!"

"I could have told you that in the first place, " Fred informed him, rising to his feet. "I have the map in my pocket. "

"You stole it?" Coutlass gasped. 

"Certainly not. Rebecca stole it while she was supposed to be sleepingin your arms!"

"Gassharamminy! I might have known it! Those Syrians--she meant togive us all the slip and find the ivory herself!"

"Nothing of the Sort!" said Fred. "She stole it from you, to give itto Lady Saffren Waldon! Kazimoto saw her do it--saw where Lady Waldonhid it--and stole it from her while she slept to give to me, believingit to be something of mine. Here it is!"

Fred let the end of a folded map protrude from his inner pocket justfar enough for Coutlass to recognize it by the fire-light. The Greekturned on his heel. 

"All right!" be said ruefully, swinging suddenly round again. "If youwere alone I would fight you, my knife against your rifle! I can notfight all four of you! Go away then, and be damned! I have nothing tooffer. There is nothing I can do. Leave me, and I will look aftermyself!"

"Now you're talking like a man. " said Fred. 

"Leave me that woman of yours, and go to hell, all of you!" laughed theGreek. 

Fred seemed suddenly possessed of a bright idea. He turned to thewoman and beckoned her to rise. Then in unmistakable pantomime he wentthrough the motions of presenting her to Coutlass. The womangasped--stammered something that was positively not consent--staredwith frightened eyes at Coutlass--shook her shaven head violently--andran away into the darkness, pursued by roars of laughter that speededher on her way. 

"A clear case of desertion!" announced Fred judicially. "You men arewitnesses!" Then he turned once more to Coutlass. "I don't thinkwe'll leave you to raise Cain on this island. It depends on youwhether we find you a lonelier island--turn you loose or hand you overto the authorities in British East!"

"Good!" Coutlass shouted. "By Jingo, you are a gentleman! You are thebest man in the world! I will treat you as my brother!"

"Thanks!" said Fred dryly. 

"Aren't you men ever coming?" asked Will, striding out of the shadows. "I've made the dicker--found a man who'd been on the mainland and knowsSwahili. The chief's agreeable to loan us two canoes in place ofdeeding you the woman. I took your name in vain, Fred, and consentedto that while your back was turned--kick all you like--the deed isdone! Four of his savages come with us as far as we want to go, wefeeding 'em meat and paying 'em money. It's agreed they're to eat justas often as we do. They paddle the canoes back home when we're throughwith them. Are you all ready? Then all aboard! Let's hurry!"

CHAPTER TWELVE

"MANY THAT ARE FIRST SHALL BE LAST; AND THE LAST FIRST'-'

When the last of the luck has deserted and the least of the chanceshas waned, When there's nowhere to run to and even the pluck in the smile thatyou carry is feigned;When grimmer than yesterday's horror to-morrow dawns hungry andcold, And your faith in the coming unknown is denied in regret for theknown and the old, Then you're facing, my son, what the Fathers from Abraham down toto-dayHave looked on alone, and stood up to alone, and each in his severalwayO'ercame (or he shouldn't be Father). So ye shall o'ercome: whileye live, Though ye've nothing but breath and good-will to your name ye muststand to it naked, and give!

Ye shall learn in that hour that the plunder ye won by profession isnought -And false was the aim ye aspired with--and dross was the glamourye sought -The codes and the creeds that ye cherished were shadows of cloudsin the wind, (And ye can not recall for their counsel lost leaders ye dalliedbehind!)Ye shall stand in that hour and discover by agony's guttering flameHow the fruits of self-will, and the lees of ambition andbitterness all are the same, Until, stripped of desire, ye shall know that was death. Then theproof that ye liveShall be knowledge new-born that the naked--the fools and the felons, can give!

Then the suns and the stars in their courses shall speedily swingto your aid, And nothing shall hinder you further, and nothing shall make youafraid, For the veriest edges of evil shall challenge your joy, and no more, And room for the right shall shine clear in your vision where wrongwas before. Then the stones in the road shall be restful that used to be trapsfor your feet, Then the crowd shall be kind that was cruel before, and yoursolitude sweetThat was want to be gloomy aforetime and gray--when the proof that yeliveIs no longer the pain of desire, but the will--and the wit--andthe vision, to give!

The canoes were the usual crazy affairs, longer and rather wider thanthe average. The bottom portion of each was made from a tree-trunk, hollowed out by burning, and chipped very roughly into shape. Thesides were laboriously hewn planks, stitched into place with threadmade from papyrus. 

Some of the men left behind were our personal servants. Counting themand Kazimoto, there were twenty natives remaining with us, making, withthe four men lent us by the chief, an allowance of twelve to eachcanoe. If we had had loads as well it would have been a problem how toget the whole party away; but as Lady Saffren Waldon had left usnothing but three cooking-pots, we just contrived to crowd the last manin without passing the danger point, Fred taking charge of the firstcanoe with Brown of Lumbwa and Kazimoto, and leaving Coutlass with theother canoe to Will and me. We agreed it was most convenient to keepthe Greek and the rifle separated by a stretch of water. 

There is one inevitable, invariable way of starting on a journey bycanoe in Africa. Somebody pushes off. The naked paddlers, seated atintervals down either side, strain their toes against a thwart or arib. The leading paddler yells, and off you go with a swing and arhythmic thunder as they all bring their paddles hard against theboat's side at the end of each stroke. Fifty--sixty--seventy--perhaps ahundred strokes they take at top speed, and the passenger settles downto enjoy himself, for there is no more captivating motion in the world. Then suddenly they stop, and all begin arguing at top of their lungs. Unless the passenger is a man of swift decision and firm purpose thereis frequently a fight at that stage, likely to end in overturned canoesand an adventure among the crocodiles. 

Our voyage broke no precedents. We started off in fine style, feelinglike old-time emperors traveling in state; and within ten minutes wewere using paddles ourselves to poke and beat our men intounderstanding of the laws of balance, they abusing one another whilethe canoes rocked and took in water through the loosely laid on planks. 

The fiber stitching began to give out very soon after that, becausewhen not in use the canoes were always hauled out somewhere and thedried-out fiber cracked and broke. We had all to sit to one side whilesome one restitched the planking. Later, when a wind came up and thequick short sea arose peculiar to lakes, we were very glad we had donethat job so early. 

It was only the first mile that as much as suggested enjoyment. Neveraccustomed to much paddling in any case, our own men had suffered fromhunger and confinement in the reeking hot dhow. Then, hippo meat needshours of cooking to be wholesome (our own share of it was still in thepot, waiting to be boiled more thoroughly at the next halting place). They had merely toasted their tough lumps in the camp-fire embers andgobbled it. The result was a craving for sleep, noisily seconded bythe chief's four men, who had eaten the stuff without cooking at all, and in enormous quantities. 

We began with a keen determination to overhaul the dhow, that dwindledas we had time to think the matter over; wondering what we should dowith two such women in case we should capture them, and how we shouldprevent Coutlass in that case from acting like a savage. 

"Why don't we leave 'em to make their own explanations?" I proposed atlast. "We can claim our few belongings at any time if we see fit. "But the suggestion took time to recommend itself. 

That night until nearly morning we fretted at every rest the paddlerstook--drove them unmercifully--ran risks of overturning on the slipperyshoulders of partly submerged rocks--took long turns ourselves torelieve the weary men, Coutlass working harder than the rest of us. Itwould have been a bad night's work if we had overhauled the dhow andloosed him to do his will. 

"Think of the baggage!" he kept shouting to the night at large. "Lyingin the arms of Georges Coutlass, kissing and being kissed, simply torob him--Coutlass--me! Think of it! Only think of it. She lay in thehook of my right arm and only thought of how to win back the favor ofthe other she-hellion! And I was deceived by such a cabbage! Waitthough! Nobody ever turned a trick on Georges Coutlass more than once! Wait till we catch them! See what I do to them! I don't forgetKamarajes either, or that bastard de Sousa, also pretending they werefriends of mine! Heiah! Hurry! Drive the paddles in, you lazy blackmen!"

It was more his hunger for revenge than any other one thing that tippedthe scales of indecision and called us off the chase. A little beforemorning, at about that darkest hour, when the stars have seen thecoming sun but the world is not yet aware of it, Fred called to us toturn in toward a barren-looking hill of granite that rose almost sheerout of the water but at one corner offered a shelving landing place. There we all clambered out to stretch cramped muscles and make a fireto cook the hippo's tongue, Coutlass cursing us for letting what hecalled idleness come between us and revenge. 

Kazimoto had scarcely more than gathered an armful of wood, thrown itdown, and gone to hunt for more; one of the other boys had struck amatch, and the first little flicker of crimson fire and purple smokewas starting to curl skyward, when Fred jumped on it and stamped it out. 

"Silence!" he ordered. "Keep still every one!" and repeated it twicein Kiswahili for the natives' benefit. 

We could not see at first which way he was staring through thedarkness. It was more than two minutes before I knew what had alarmedhim, and then it was sound, not sight that gave me the first clue. There came a purring from the lake; and when I had searched for aminute for the source of it I saw the glow we had watched from the dhowin the storm the first night out--the telltale crimson stain on thedark that rides above a steamer's funnel, and at intervals a stream ofsparks to prove they were burning wood and driving her at top speed. 

"It can't be the German launch, " said I. 

"Why not?" demanded Fred irritably. He knew I knew it was the Germanlaunch as certainly as he did. 

"How can they have patched her boiler?" I asked. 

"How many beans make five? They've done it, and there she goes! Noother launch on the lake can make that speed! I've heard the Britishrailway people have a launch or two, but they're small enough to havetraveled down the line on ordinary trucks. That's the German launchand Schillingschen as surely as we stand here!"

We waited there until dawn, arguing at intervals, not daring to light afire, nor caring to sleep, Coutlass sitting apart and laughing everynow and then like a hyena. 

"If the men weren't so dead beat I'd be for carrying on, said Fred. 

"What's the use?" argued Brown. "We can't catch the bally launch, canwe? Soon as it's daylight they'd see us, like as not. I hope to getdrunk once more before I die! Schillingschen 'ud run us down, an'good-by us!"

"I'd say follow them if the men could make it, " Will agreed. "Butwhat's the odds? It's us they're after. They'll dare do nothing tothe women on the dhow--in British waters. "

"That's so, " I agreed, not believing a word of it, any more than they. One had to calm one's feelings somehow; the men were too weary todrive the canoes another mile at anything like speed. Coutlass, whohad heard every word of the argument, burst out into such yells oflaughter that Fred threw a rock at him. "Curse you, you ghoul!"

Coutlass changed his tone from demoniacal delight to quieter, grimamusement. 

"They will do nothing, eh? It is I, Georges Coutlass, who need donothing! I have my revenge by proxy! Wait and see!"

Fred threw a second rock, and hit him squarely. 

"Gassharamminy!" swore the Greek. "Do you know that rock is harderthan a man's head?"

Fred let the boys light a fire when the sun had risen high enough tomake the little blaze not noticeable. Most of the men were asleep, butthough our eyes ached with the long vigil we could not have copiedthem. About three hours after daylight we breakfasted off slices ofhot boiled hippo tongue and cold lake water, without salt or condimentsof any kind, and with discontent increased by that unpleasing feast wearoused the boys and drove them into the canoes. 

We forced the pace again, and picked up smoke on the sky-line an hourbefore noon, but it was not from a steamer's funnel. It was lazy, flat-flowing, spreading smoke with a look of iniquity about it thatsent our hearts to our mouths. We paddled toward it with frenziedenergy, and long before any of us could make out details Coutlass, standing balancing himself amidships, told us what we knew was true andflatly refused to believe. 

"It's the Queen of Sheba burning to the water-line!"

"Sit down, you fool, or you'll upset us!"

"She's gutted already--the flame is about finished! nothing now butsmoke!"

"Sit down, you lying idiot, and hold your tongue!"

"I can see the smoke of the German launch now! Don't you all see it?Straight ahead beyond the smoke of the dhow! They've burned the dhowand steamed away! I'll bet you a million pounds they've killedeverybody--shot 'em, or burned 'em alive, or drowned 'em!"

"Did you hear me tell you to sit down? I'll tip you overboard and makeyou swim for shore--d'ye see those crocodiles? Ugh! Look at thebrutes! In you go among the crocks if you don't sit down at once!"

Coutlass took no notice of the threat, but rocked the canoe recklesslyas he stood on tiptoe. 

"Think of their gall! By Bacchus, they're steaming for British East!I bet you five million pounds to a kick they think they've drowned thelot of us! They're going to steam in and report the accident!"

We got him to sit down at last by ordering the paddlers nearest him tothrow him overboard, but nothing would stop his evil croaking any morethan flat refusal to admit the truth of what he gloated over lessenedour real conviction. 

Long before we reached the dhow there was no room left for unbelief. The stern planks were charred, but stood erect, unburned yet, and theblue and white paint smeared on them was surely that of the Queen ofSheba. When we came within fifty yards the water was full of loathsomereptiles; our paddles actually struck them as they swarmed after theprey, snapping at one another and at our canoes--long, slimy-lookingmonsters, as able to smell carrion in the distance as kites are to see. 

There were garments on the water--blankets--and one soaked, torn, lacything that certainly had been a woman's. More than a dozen crocodilesfought around that. We tried to go close enough to see whether therewere dead bodies in the dhow's charred hull, but as if the very ripplefrom our paddles were the last straw, the wreck dipped suddenly tenfeet from us and plunged, the crocodiles following it down into deepwater with lashing tails--swifter than fish. 

We paddled about for an hour in the blistering sun, searching stupidlyfor what we knew we could never find; crocodiles remove traces ofidentity more swiftly than kites and crows. 

"I'll bet you they thought we were on board!" gleed Coutlass. "I'llbet you they opened fire, and when we didn't answer came to theconclusion we had no ammunition. Then they steamed close enough tothrow kerosene on board and light it! I bet you they steamed round andround and watched the people jump as the flames drove them overboard!Or d'you think they shot them all, and then threw them overboard andfired the dhow? No--then they'd have known we weren't on the dhow;they'd have steamed back then to find us; they thought we were in thedhow!" They thought we were hiding below deck! They're going toBritish East to take their Bible oaths they saw us burn and drown!Isn't that a joke! Isn't that a good one! Gassharamminy! But I'dgive my hope of heaven to know whether they shot the women first orwatched them jump among the crocodiles when the heat grew fierce!"

We paddled to another rocky island--one that had trees on it, andrested through the heat of the day when we had killed all the snakesthat had forestalled us in the shade. There, after again eatinghippo-tongue unseasoned and ungarnished, we held a council of war, andFred produced the map that Rebecca stole from Coutlass. 

"If we make for a township now--Kisumu is the nearest--about five andtwenty miles away, " said Fred, "we can give ourselves the pleasure ofsurprising Schillingschen, and of course we can get a square meal andsome clothes and soap and so on--incidentally perhaps some rifles andammunition. But we can't prove a thing against Schillingschen, and hehas enough pull with British officials to make things deuced unpleasantfor us, for a time at least. Consider the other side of it. Supposewe don't make for a station. Schillingschen reports us dead. Nobodylooks for us--unless perhaps out on the lake for a hat or some scrap ofclothing by way of corroborative evidence. Suppose we paddle out ofthis gulf and take to shore somewhere along the north end of the lake. We've no food, no tents, only one gun, next to no ammunition, nothingbut money and a purpose. We don't know what chance we have of gettingsupplies, and particularly rifles, without letting any one know wherewe are, but we do know we've a clear field and a straight mark forElgon, where rumor says--and Courtney said--and Schillingschenthinks--and this map says the ivory ought to be! The odds are againstus--climate --starvation--wild beasts--savages--last and not least, thegovernment, if they ever get wind of our being beyond bounds. Are wewilling to take the chance, or are we not?"

We talked it over for an hour, Coutlass listening all ears to most ofwhat we said, although we drove him to the farthest limit of the shadetrees. We were in two minds whether or not it mattered if he listened, and made the usual two-minds hash of it. Finally we put it to a vote, letting Brown have a voice with the rest of us. He was in favor ofanything that offered prospect of a gamble; and we remembered theletter in code we had given the missionary to mail to Monty. We hadtold him in that that we should make tracks for Elgon, and we all votedthe same way. 

"In other words" grinned Fred, "we're perfect idiots, and ready andwilling to prove it! Good! If you fellows had voted the other way I'dhave gone forward to Elgon alone!"

It was then that Georges Coutlass took a hand in the game again. Hecame striding through the trees with something of his old swagger, andsat down among us with an air. 

"Count me in!" he demanded. 

"D'you mean in the lake?" suggested Fred. 

"In on the trip to Mount Elgon!"

"We've had nearly enough of you!" Fred answered. "I know what'scoming! If you don't come with us you'll tell tales? Blackmail, eh?Well, it won't work! We'll set you ashore on the mainland, and if youdare show yourself to Schillingschen or any British official, we'll runthat risk cheerfully!"

But Coutlass was imperturbable for once. He laid a hand on Fred'sknee, and changed his tone to one of gentle persuasion between friendand friend. 

"Ah! Mr. Oakes, I know you now too well! You are not the man to leaveme in the lurch! These others perhaps! You never! You know me, too. You have seen me under all conditions. You are able to judge mycharacter. You know how firm a friend I can be, as well as how savagean enemy! You know I would never be false to a friend such as you--toa man whom I admire as I do you!"

Will Yerkes, who had tried to keep a straight face, now went off intopeals of laughter, rolling over on his back and rocking his legs in theair--a performance that did not appear to discourage Coutlass in theleast. Brown was far from amused. He advised throwing the Greek intothe lake. 

"Remember those cattle o' mine!" he insisted. 

"Yes!" agreed Coutlass. "Remember those cattle! Consider what a manof quick decision and courage I am! How useful I can be! What aforager! What a guide! What a fighting man! What a hunter! What aliar on behalf of my friends! What a danger for my friends' enemies!What are the cattle of a drunkard like Brown--the poor unhappysot!--compared to the momentary needs of a gentleman! Ah! By theordeal! I am a gentleman, and that is the secret of it all! You, Mr. Oakes, as one brave gentleman, can not despise the right hand offriendship of Georges Coutlass, another gentleman! I know you can not! You haven't it in you! You were born under another star than that! Ihave confidence! I sit contented!"

"You good-for-nothing villain!" Fred grinned. "I'll take you at yourword!" and Brown of Lumbwa gasped, the very hairs of his red beardbristling. 

"I knew you would!" said Coutlass calmly. "These others are notgentlemen. They do not understand. "

"If your word is good for anything, " Fred continued. 

"My word is my bond!" said the Greek. 

"And you really want to prove yourself my friend--"

"I would go to hell for you and bring you back the devil's favoritewife!"

"I will set you on the mainland, to go and recover those cattle of Mr. Brown's from the Masai who raided them! Return them to Lumbwa, andI'll guarantee Brown shall shake hands with you!"

"Pah! Brown! That drunkard!"

"See here!" said Brown, getting up and peeling off his coat. "I've hadenough of being called drunkard by you. Put up your dukes!"

But a fight between Brown and the Greek with bare fists would have beenlittle short of murder. Brown was in no condition to thrash that wirycustomer, and we in no mood to see Coutlass get the better of him. 

"Don't be a fool, Brown! Sit down!" ordered Fred, and having saved hisface Brown condescended readily enough. 

"What you said's right, " he admitted. "Let him get my cattle backafore he's fit to fight a gentleman!"

And so the matter was left for the present, with Georges Coutlass undersentence of abandonment to his own devices as soon as we could do thatwithout entailing his starvation. We had no right to have pity for therascal; he had no claim whatever on our generosity; yet I think evenBrown would not have consented to deserting him on any of those barrenislands, whatever the risk of his spoiling our plans as soon as weshould let him out of sight. 

>From then until we beached the canoes at last in a gap in the papyruson the lake's northern shore, we pressed forward like hunted men. Forone thing, the very thought of boiled meat without bread, salt, orvegetables grew detestable even to the natives after the second orthird meal, although hippo tongue is good food. We tried green stuffgathered on the islands, but it proved either bitter or elsenauseating, and although our boys gathered bark and roots that theysaid were fit for food, it was noticeable that they did not eat much ofit themselves. The simplest course was to race for the shore with aslittle rest and as little sleep as the men could do with. 

However, we were not noticeably better off when we first set foot onshore. There was nothing but short grass growing on the thin soil thatonly partly hid the volcanic rock and manganese iron ore. VictoriaNyanza is the crater of a once enormous, long ago extinct volcano, andwe stood on a shelf of rock about a thousand feet below what had beenthe upper rim--a chain of mountains leading away toward the northhigher and higher, until they culminated in Mount Elgon, anotherextinct volcano fourteen thousand feet above sea level. 

It was not unexplored land where we stood, but it was so little knownthat the existence of white men was said to be a matter of some doubtamong natives a mile or two to either side of the old safari route thatpassed from east to west. We could see no villages, although wemarched for hours, the loaned canoe-men tagging along behind us, hungrier than we, until at last over the back of a long low spur wespied the, tops of growing kaffir corn. 

At sight of that we broke into a run and burst on the field of grainlike a pack of the dog-baboons that swoop from the hills and makehavoc. We seized the heads of grain, rubbed them between our hands, and had munched our fill before we were seen by the jealous owners. Asmall boy herding hump-backed cattle down in the valley watched us fora minute, and then deserted his charge to report to the village hiddenbehind a clump of trees. Ten minutes after that we were surrounded bynaked black giants, all armed with spears and a personal smell thatoutstank one's notions of Gehenna. 

We had nothing to offer them, except money, for which they obviouslyhad not the slightest use. None of us knew their language. From theirpoint of view we were thieves taken in the act, all but one of usunarmed as far as they knew, to be judged by the tribal standard thatfor more centuries than men remember has decreed that the thief shalldie. They were most incensed at the four unhappy islanders, probablyon the same principle that dogs pick on the weakest, and fight mostreadily with dogs of a more or less similar breed. 

It was Coutlass who saved that situation. He instantly went crazy, orthe next thing to it, wrinkling up his black-whiskered face into acaricature, yelling a Greek monologue in a refrain consisting of fivenotes repeated over and over, and dancing around in a wide ring withone leg shorter than the other and his arms executing symbols ofwitchcraft. 

The chief was the biggest man--not an inch less than seven feet--blackas ebony, from the curly hair, into which his patient wives had plaitedfiber to hang in a greasy lump over his neck, all down his naked bodyto the soles of his enormous feet. Each time he came in front of thatindividual Coutlass paused and executed special finger movements, likethe trills of a super-pianist, ending invariably in a punctuation pointthat made the savage shiver. 

The fifth time round, to avoid the accusing fingers, the giant dodgedbehind a smaller man, who dodged behind a woman, who promptly turnedand ran, swinging in the wind behind her a bustle like a horse's tailthat was her only garment. Her flight was the touch that settled thedecision in our favor. We all began to do a mumbo-jumbo dance aroundCoutlass, and in five seconds more the whole armed party was in fullretreat, holding their spears behind them as some sort of protectionagainst magic. 

"After that, " said Coutlass proudly, "will you still dismiss me fromyour party, gentlemen?"

"You've got to go and find Brown's cattle and return them to him!" Fredanswered firmly. But we none of us felt like sending him packing untilhe was better fed and some provision could be made for his safety onthe road. It was wonderful, the number of excuses that flocked throughmy mind for befriending the ruffian, and later on I found it was thesame with Fred and Will. Brown, on the other hand, affectedindignation at his being allowed to go with us another yard. 

"Make a rope o' grass an' hang the swine!" he grumbled. 

We decided to march on the village, retreat being obviously far toodangerous, and the only likely safe course being to follow up thechance success. Sleep another night in the open among the mosquitoesand wild beasts, besides making us wretched at the mere suggestion, waslikely to bring us all down with fever. We preferred the thought offever to the loneliness; for man is unlike all other nomads, and thatis why the dog takes kindly to him; he must have a home of his own--aportable one, if you will--a tub like Diogenes--a Bedouin's tent--acave, or a hole in the ground--something, so be he may rent it or ownit or know for a fact he may sleep there when night comes. Life in theopen is only good fun when there is cover to take to at will. 

All the way along the winding foot-track leading in every imaginabledirection except toward the village, and only turning suddenly towardit when we had grown disgusted and decided to leave it and try to findanother, Brown kept pointing out trees with suitable overhanging armsto which we might hang Coutlass. The Greek, with eyes for nothing butthe fat, hump-backed village cattle in the distance, seemed to thinkonly of them, until Will commented on the fact, and Fred saw fit todrop a hint. 

"Steal as much as a young calf, Coutlass, and we'll let Brown choosethe tree! Try it on if you don't believe me!"

The villagers closed their gate against us by dragging great piles ofthorn across the gap in the rough palisade, but, as Coutlass pointedout, they would have to open it up again to let the cattle in beforedark, so we sat down and ate the remaining fragments of the hippotongue--no ambrosia by that time; it had to be eaten, to save it fromutter waste!

Then Coutlass once more did a first-class devil dance backward andforward this time before the gate, putting genius into it and fear intothe hearts of the defenders. Kazimoto helped even more than he bydiscovering a native within the palisade who could speak a commontongue. 

Their villagers held a very noisy council on their side of the thornobstruction, under the apparent impression that it was sound- andbullet-proof. It was beginning to be pretty obvious that a man whoadvised volleying through the crevices with spears was winning theargument when Kazimoto detected familiar accents and raised his voice. After that the barricade was dragged aside within ten minutes and weentered, if not in honor, at least in temporary safety. 

Luxury is a question of contrast. That evening in a hut assigned to usby the chief, squatting on the trodden cow-dung floor, leaning againstthe dried-mud sides, with a little fire of sticks in the midst to giveus light and keep mosquitoes at a distance at the expense of almostunbearable heat, we ate porridge made from mtama as they call theirkaffir corn, and washed it down with milk--good rich cows' milk, milkedby Kazimoto into our own metal pot instead of their unwashed gourds. Lucullus never dined better. 

The feast was only rather spoiled by two things: we all had chiggersin our feet--the minute fleas that haunt the dust of native villagesand insert themselves under toe-nails to grow great and lay their eggs. (Nearly every native in the village had more than one toe missing. )And the chief felt obliged to insert his smelly presence among us andask innumerable idiotic questions through the medium of his interpreterand Kazimoto. He received some astonishing answers, but would not havebeen satisfied with anything more reasonable. We wanted him satisfied, and gave our interpreter free rein. 

The main trouble was we had nothing of value to offer him. Money wassomething he had no knowledge of. He wanted beads of a certain sizeand color; for two handfuls of them he expressed himself willing to beour friend for life. We had to educate him about money, and Kazimotoassured him that the silver rupees Fred produced from a bag were soprecious that governments went to war to get them away from othergovernments. 

But the impression still prevailed that we were wasikini--poor men;and that is a fatal qualification in the savage mind. 

"Why have you only one gun?"

In vain Kazimoto assured him that we had dozens of guns "at home"--thatFred's landed possessions were so vast that two hundred strong menwalking for a month would be unable to march across them--that Fred'swives (Fred seemed to live under a cloud of sexual scandal in thosedays) were so many in number they had to be counted twice a day to makesure none was missing. 

The chief had eighteen wives of his own to show. He could prove hismatrimonial felicity. Why had Fred left his behind? How did he dare?Who looked after them? Had he left the guns behind to guard the women? Why did such a rich man travel without food for his men? The chiefhad seen us with his own eyes devour porridge as if we were starving. 

To have told him the truth would have been worse than useless. To havementioned such a thing as shipwreck would only have stirred the savageinstinct to prey off all unfortunates. Failing evidence of wealth inour possession, the only feasible plan was to claim so much that hemight believe some of it, and it was Coutlass, drawing a bow at aventure, who ordered Kazimoto to tell him that we expected a party in afew days bringing tents, provisions and more guns. 

"There will be blue-and-white beads of the sort you long for amongthose loads, " added Kazimoto on his own account; and that eased thechief's mind for the night. Fred gave him a half-rupee, and promisedhim to exchange it when the loads should come for as many of the beadsas he could seize in his two fists. The chief went out to brag to thevillage, opening and closing his fists to see how huge their compasswas; and later that night his wives had to be beaten for fighting. They were jealous because the fattest and the youngest new one had bothbeen promised double shares. 

There was another fight because our porters emerged from their hut anddemanded that a barren cow out of the village herd be butchered. Theymade their meaning perfectly clear by taking the cow by the horns andtail and throwing her on her back. Fred decided that argument with athick stick about four feet long. 

The unusual spectacle of some one taking sides against his own men, whatever the rights or wrongs of it, so affected the chief that heentered our hut next morning disposed to hold us up for double promisesof beads. It was evident we had to deal with a born extortioner. Hewould increase his demands with every fresh concession. 

"Oh, what's the odds!" laughed Coutlass. "Promise him anything! Theonly loads likely to come along this way for a year or two areSchillingschen's!"

Fred told the chief he would think the matter over, and chased him outof the hut. Coutlass had given us all a new idea in an instant, and hewas the only one who did not see its point--he, the only one who didnot give a snap of the fingers for the laws of any land!

"D'you suppose--"

"Too good to hope for!"

"If he thinks we're dead--?"

"And if he believes in that map--"

"He'll not need the map. He'll have memorized it. There's only acircle drawn on it to mark the Elgon district. All the old pencilmarks have been rubbed out as he searched the other likely places anddrew them all blank. "

"He'll travel without military escort?"

"Sure! He won't want witnesses! He'll make believe it's a scientifictrip. Remember, he's a professor of ethnology. That's how he puts itall over the British and goes where he pleases without as much asby-your-leave. "

"Say, fellows! It's a moral cinch that when we broke away from Muanzahe made up his mind in a flash to return to British East and destroy uson the way. He thinks he made a clean job of that. I'll bet he loadedthe launch down with stuff for a long safari, and thinks now he has aclear run and can take his time!"

"If that's how the cards lie, the game's ours!"

Coutlass saw the point at last and offered himself on the altar offorgiveness and friendship. 

"Make me your partner, gentlemen, and if he travels within a hundredmiles of this I will crawl into that Schillingschen's tent in the nightand slit his throat! I would murder him as willingly as I eat when Iam hungry!"

"Your job has been assigned you!" answered Fred. "When Mr. Brown'scattle are back in Lumbwa perhaps we'll give you something else to do!"

Nevertheless, Coutlass had outlined in a flash the limits of the plan. We would draw the line at murdering even Schillingschen, but must helpourselves to his outfit as our only chance of re-outfitting withoutbetraying our presence in British East. But the plan was not withoutrat-holes in it that a fool could see. 

"Schillingschen's boys will escape and run to the nearest Britishofficial with the story!"

"And the British official will be so full of the importance ofSchillingschen and the need of protecting his beastly carcass--to saynothing of the everlasting disgrace of letting him be scoughed onBritish territory--and the official reprimand from home that's sure tofollow--that he'll come hot-foot to investigate!"

"We'll have to provide against that, " said Fred, and we all laughed, including Coutlass. Talk of provisions is easy when you have no meansout of which to provide. It did not occur to include Coutlass in thecalculations, or to dismiss him from them; but without exchanging anyremarks on the subject it was clear enough to all of us that no suchplan could hope to succeed with the Greek at large, at liberty to spoilit. We saw we should have to keep him in our party for the present. 

"Don't forget, " said Coutlass, more accustomed than we to seizing thestrategic points of desperate situations, "that Schillingschen willhave his own boys with him from German East. "

"I didn't see any with him on the launch, " I objected. 

"He would never have come without them" Coutlass insisted. "He madethem lie below the water-line out of reach of bullets at the only timewhen you might have seen them! He wouldn't trust himself to Britishporters. My word, no! That devil knows natives! He knows some ofthem might be British government spies! He'll have his own boys, --ifthey can't carry all his loads he'll buy donkeys at Mumias; there arealways donkeys to be bought at that place, brought down from Turkana bythe Arab ivory traders. Do donkeys talk?"

At any rate, we talked, and made no bones at all about includingGeorges Coutlass in the conversation. It was his suggestion that weshould send natives to look out for Schillingschen, and Fred'samendment that reduced the messengers to one, and that one Kazimoto. Any of the others might decide to desert, once out of sight, and wecould scarcely have blamed them, for their path had not lain amongroses in our company. 

Kazimoto had a million objections to offer against going alone on thaterrand, as, for instance, that the chigger fleas would invade ourtoe-nails disastrously without his cunning fingers to hunt them outagain. He also prophesied that without him to interpret there wouldswiftly be trouble between us and the chief; but we saw the other sideof that medal and rather looked forward to an interval when the chiefshould not be able to talk to us at all. 

At last, on the second morning after our arrival at the village, Kazimoto wrapped an enormous mound of cold mtama pudding in a cloth andwent his way, prophesying darkly of murder and sudden death lurkingbehind rocks and trees, as unwishful to be alone as a terrier without amaster, but much too faithful to refuse duty. 

The chief saw a side of the medal that we had not guessed existed. Hecame and sat beside us like an evil-smelling shadow, satisfied that nowwe could not dismiss him, he being under no obligation to understandgestures. Curiosity was the impelling motive, but he was not withoutsuspicion. Fred said he reminded him of a Bloomsbury landlady whoselodgers had not paid their board and rooming in advance. 

Will solved that problem by taking the rifle, and one cartridge thatFred doled out grudgingly, and after a long day's stalking amongmosquitoes in the papyrus at the edge of the lake five miles away, atimminent risk of crocodiles and an even worse horror we had not yetsuspected, shooting a hippopotamus. Forthwith the whole village, chiefincluded, went to cut up and carry off the meat, and there followedrevelry by night, the chiefs wives brewing beer from the mtama, and allgetting drunk as well as gorged. Coutlass and Brown got more drunkthan any one. 

Will came back with flies on his coat--three large things likehorse-flies, that crossed their wings in repose, resembling in allother respects the common tetse fly. He said the reeds by thelake-side were full of them. 

Remembering tales about sleeping sickness, and suspicion of conveyingit said to rest on a tetse fly that crossed its wings, I went out thefollowing day and walked many miles east-ward, taking with me the onlytwo sober villagers I could find. They came willingly enough for fivemiles, thinking, I suppose, that I intended to follow Will's exampleand kill some more meat (although, as I did not take the rifle with me, they were not guilty of much dead-weight reasoning). 

At the bank of the fifth stream we came to they stopped, and refused togo another yard. Thinking they were merely lusting after the meat andbeer in the village, I took a stick to drive them across the stream infront of me, but they dodged in terror and ran back home as if thedevil had been after them. 

I crossed the stream and continued forward alone about another miletoward a fairly large village visible between great blue boulders withcactus dotted all about. There was the usual herd of cattle grazingnear at hand, but the place had an unaccountable forlorn look, and thesmall boy standing on an ant-hill to watch the cattle seemed toolistless to be curious, and too indifferent to run away. The big browntetse flies, that crossed their wings when resting, were everywhere, making no noise at all, but announcing themselves every once in a whileby a bite on the back of the hand that stung like a whip-lash. Theyseemed to have special liking for coat-sleeves, and a dozen of themwere generally riding on each side of me. One could drive them off, but they came back at once, as horse-flies do when poked off with awhip. 

When I drew near the village nobody came out to look at me, which wassuspicious in itself. Nobody shouted. Nobody blocked the way, ordragged thorn-bushes across the gateway. There were black men andwomen there, sitting in the shadows of the eaves, who looked up andstared at me--men and women too intent on sitting still to care whethertheir skins were glossy--unoiled, unwashed, unfed, by the look ofthem--skeletons clothed in leather and dust, desiring death, butcruelly denied it. 

One man, thin as a wisp of smoke, rushed at me from the shadow of a hutdoor and tried to bite my leg. The merest push sent him rolling over, and there he lay, too overcome by inertia to move another inch, his armuplifted in the act of self-defense. Nobody else in the villagestirred. There were more huts than people, more kites on the roofsthan huts. Some of the littlest children played in the hut doors, butnearly all of them were listless like the grown folk. The only sign ofnormal activity was the big black earthen jars that witnessed that thewomen performed part at least of their daily round by bringing waterfrom the lake. 

I returned late that afternoon, walking, as it were, out of a belt oftetse flies. On one side of a narrow stream they were thick together;to the west of it there were scarcely any, although the wind blew fromeast to west. 

"There's no fear of news about us reaching any government official, " Iannounced. "There's a curtain of death between us and the governmentthat even suspicion couldn't penetrate!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE SLEEP THAT IS NO SLEEP*

Ten were the plagues that Israel fled, and leaving left no cure, Whose progeny self-multiplied a million-fold remain, The cloak of each one ignorance, idolatry its lure, And death the goal till, clarion-called, lost Israel comeagain. Till then that loaded lash that bade the tale of bricksincrease (Eye for an eye, and limb for limb!) shall fail not thoughye weep;The conqueror's heel for Africa!--The fear that shall not cease!-- Desire, distrust, the alien law!--The sleep that is no sleep!

------------------* It is a characteristic of the so-called Sleeping Sickness that isdecimating the tribes around Victoria Nyanza that the victim, althoughhe goes into a coma, never actually sleeps from the time of taking thedisease until the end, usually more than a year later. The natives, atribe that came originally down from Egypt, themselves say that thedreaded sickness is a "visitation" by way of revenge on them for formersins, although what sins, and whose vengeance, they are at a total lossto explain. ------------------

Kazimoto was gone five days, and then came preceded by proof of thenews he brought. He came in the evening. In the morning, unaccountably from the northward, instead of from the westward whereUganda lay, --avoiding the regular safari route and the belt of sleepingsickness villages, came a genial, sleek, shiny Baganda, arrayed inkhaki coat, red fez, and bordered loin-cloth, gifted with tongues, andself-confident beyond belief. 

He knew nothing of us at first, for we sat in our hut with a smudgegoing, nervous about flies, even Coutlass, reckless as a rule ofanything he could not see, and perfectly indifferent to death forothers, now fidgety and afraid to swagger forth. 

One of our Nyamwezi porters suddenly made a great shout of "Hodi!"* andcame stooping through the low door, standing erect again inside toawait our pleasure. We could hear others outside, listening under theeaves. When we had kept him waiting sufficiently long to prevent hisgetting too much notion of his own importance, Fred nodded to him tospeak. [* Hodi! Equivalent to "May I come In!"]

"Is it true, bwana, " he asked, "that the Germans will come soon andconquer this part of Africa?"

"Certainly not!" said Fred. 

"There is one out here, a Baganda, who says they will surely come. Hesays the religion of Islam will be preached from end to end ofeverywhere, and that the Germans are the true priests of Islam. Theywill come, says he, when the time is ripe, and call on all the convertsof Islam to rise and slay all other people, including all white folk, like the English, who do not accept that creed. If that is true, bwana, whither shall we go, and whither shall you go, to escape suchterrible things?"

"Does the Baganda know there are white men in this village?" Fred asked. 

"Not yet, bwana. "

"Don't tell him, then, but bring him in here. Tell him there are folkin here who say he is a liar. "

The Nyamwezi backed out, and we heard whispering outside. There isprecious little performance in Africa without a deal of talk. At theend of about ten minutes the porter again shouted "Hodi!" and this timewas followed in by the stranger, seven other of our own men, uninvited, bringing up the rear. 

"Jambo!"* said the Baganda, with a great effort at bravado, when hiseyes had grown accustomed to the gloom and the first severe surprise ofseeing white men had worn off. He was a very cool customer indeed. [*Jambo! Kiswahili equivalent of "How d'you do?"]

"Whose pimp are you?" demanded Fred, without answering the salutation. 

The man fell back on insolence at once. There is no native in Africawho takes more keenly to that weapon than the mission-schooled Baganda. 

"I am employed by a gentleman of superior position, " he answered inperfectly good English. 

"In what capacity?" demanded Fred. 

"I am not employed to tell his secrets to the first strangers who askme!"

"Do you obey him implicitly?"

"I do. I am honorable person. I receive his pay and do his bidding. "

"Is his name Schillingschen?"

The Baganda hesitated. 

"All right, " said Fred. "I know his name is Schillingschen. You haveboasted that you do what he orders you. These men tell me you havesaid that the Germans are coming to conquer the country and destroy allpeople, including the English, who have not accepted Islam!"

The man hesitated again, glancing over his shoulder to discover hisretreat cut off by our porters, and eying Fred with malignity thatreminded one of a cornered beast of prey. He could control his face, but not his eyes. 

"Oh, no, sir!" he answered after swallowing a time or two. "How couldthey tell such lies against me! I am a person born in Uganda, now aBritish protectorate and enjoying all blessings of British rule. I ameducated at the mission college at Entebbe. How should I tell such atale against my benefactors?"

"That is what you are here to explain!" Fred answered. "No! You can'tescape, you hellion! Squat down and answer!"

"All this stuff is pretty familiar, " Will interrupted. "In the Statesthere are always people going the rounds among our darkies preachingsome form of treason. Over there we can afford to treat it as ajoke--now and then an ugly one, and on the darkies!"

"This is an ugly joke on a darkie, too!" grinned Fred. 

The Baganda made a sudden dive and a determined struggle to get throughthe door, but our porters were too quick and strong for him. 

"Confession is your one chance!" said Fred. 

"Put hot irons to his feet!" advised Coutlass. (The native beer hadleft him villainously evil-tempered. ) "Gassharamminy! Leave me alonewith that fat Baganda for half an hour, and I will make him tell mewhat is on the far side of the moon, as well as what his mother saidand did before she bore him!"

"Shall I hand you over to this Greek gentleman?" suggested Fred. 

"Oh, my God, no!" the Baganda answered, trembling. "Hand me over tothe bwana collector! He will put me in jail. I am not afraid ofBritish jail! It will not be for long! The English do not punish asthe Germans do! You dare not assault me! You dare not torture me!You must hand me over to the bwana collector to be tried in court oflaw. Nothing else is permissible! I shall receive short sentence, that is all, with reprieve after two-thirds time on account of goodconduct!"

"Make him prisoner in the sleeping sickness village you told us about!"advised Coutlass, lolling at ease on his elbow to watch the man'sincreasing fear. 

"Oh, no, no! Oh, gentlemen! That is not how white Englishmen behave!You must either let me go, or--"

He made another terrific dive for liberty, biting and kicking at hiscaptors, and finally lying on his back to scream as if the hot ironsCoutlass had recommended were being applied in earnest. 

"What shall we do with the beast?" asked Fred. The hut was so full ofhis infernal screaming that we could talk without his hearing us. 

"Tie him up, " I said. "If we let him go he'll run straight toSchillingschen. "

"Leave him here with Coutlass and me!" urged Brown. (He and Coutlasshad grown almost friendly since getting drunk together on the nativebeer. )

"I recommend, " said Will, "that we take the law in our own hands--"

The Baganda ceased screaming and listened. For some reason he suspectedWill of being the deciding factor in our councils--perhaps because Willhad said least. 

"--take the law in our own hands, and thrash him soundly. Later on wecan report what we have done to the British government, and ask forcondonation under the circumstances or pay whatever piffling fine theycare to impose for the sake of appearances. The point is, there's nocourt of law in these parts to hand him over to, and he needspunishing. "

"I agree, " said Fred. "Let's thrash him to begin with. "

"Let's thrash him, " went on Will, "as thoroughly as we've seen hisfriends the Germans do the job!"

"Both sides!" agreed Brown. 

"Oh, no, no, no! You can not do that, gentlemen!"

"Lay him out!" ordered Fred. "Let's begin on him. Who shall beat himfirst?"

At a nod from Fred our porters stretched him face downward on the drydung floor, and knelt on his arms and legs. One of them staffed a goodhandful of the dry dung into his mouth to stop his yelling. 

"Of course, " said Will, rather slowly and distinctly, "if he told usabout Schillingschen, we'd have to let him off. Let's hope he holdshis tongue, for I never wanted to flog a man so much in all my life!"

The most palpable absurdity at the moment was that there was nothing inthe hut to beat him with. There were dozens of strips of the recentlyshot hippo hide hanging in the sun outside to dry, with stones tied tothe end of each, to keep them taut and straight, but nobody made a moveto bring one in. 

"Take off his loin-cloth!" ordered Fred. "It won't hurt him enoughwith that thing on!"

The Baganda spat the cow-dung from his mouth and struggled violently. 

"Oh, no, no!" he shouted. "I will tell! I will tell everything!"

"Too late now!" said Will jubilantly. 

"No, gentlemen, no! Not too late! I tell all--I tell quickly! Onlylisten! Bwana Schillingschen will shoot me if he knows! He is verybad man--very kali--very fierce--and oh, too clever! You must protectme!"

He could hardly get the words out, for the knees of our porters pinnedhim down, and his chin was pressed hard on the floor. 

"I ordered that loin-cloth removed!" was all Fred commented. One ofthe porters attended to the task, and the Baganda hurried with histale, drawing in breath in noisy gasps like a man with asthma becauseof the weight of his captors on him and the strained position of hisneck. 

"Bwana Schillingschen is sending me and many other men--not allBaganda, but of many tribes--to go through all parts and say Islam isthe only good religion--all Germans are high-priests of Islam--soon theGermans are coming with great armies to destroy the British and allother foolish people who have not accepted Islam as their creed! Allare to get ready to receive the Germans. "

"Where is Schillingschen now?" demanded Fred. 

"Beyond Mumias. "

"How far beyond Mumias?"

"Who knows? He is marching. "

"In which direction? What for?"

"To Mount Elgon. I do not know what for. "

"How do you know he is going to Mount Elgon?"

"He told me to go there and find him after my work is done. "

"How long were you to continue at what you call your work?"

"A month or five weeks. "

"So he expects to stay a long time up there?"

"Yes. "

"Why?"

"I do not know. "

"Has he many loads with him?"

"Very many provisions for a long time. "

"Guns?"

"Several. I do not know how many. He gives guns to some of his menwhen he gets to where the government will not know about it. "

"How many men has he?"

"Not many. Ten, I think. "

"How can they carry all those loads?"

"He brought a hundred porters from Kisumu to Mumias, and there boughtmore than forty donkeys, sending the porters back again. "

"Then are the men he has with him his own?"

"Yes. "

"From German East?"

"Yes. "

"What orders did he give you besides to tell these lies about Germanconquest?"

"None. 

"Pass me that whip!" ordered Fred. There was no whip, but the Bagandacould not know that. 

"He gave the same order to all of us, " he yelled. "We are to stay outa month or five weeks unless we meet white men. If we meet white menwe are to discover the white men's plans by talking with theirservants, and then hurry to him and report. "

"Ah! How many other spies has he out in this direction?"

"None. "

"Why don't you pass me that whip when I ask for it?" demanded Fred. 

"None! None! None, bwana! I am the only man in this direction! Hehas sent them north, south, east and west, but I am the only one downhere. "

"He has a lot more to tell yet, " said Coutlass. "Let me put hot ironson his feet!"

Fred demurred. "He couldn't march with us if we did that!" he saidwith a perfectly straight face. 

"Who cares whether or not he marches!" answered Coutlass. "To tell allhe knows is his business! Wait while I heat the iron!"

The Baganda began to scream again, babbling that he knew no more. Heassured us that Schillingschen had set the closest watch along the oldcaravan route, and toward his own rear in the direction of Kisumu, whence officials might come on chance errands. 

"All right, " said Fred. "Truss him up tight and keep him prisoneramong our men in their hut. "

"Our men are likely to get drunk tonight, " warned Will. 

"Let me watch him!" urged Coutlass. "Leave me with him alone!"

To the Greek's disgust we decided to trust the prisoner with our ownmen, and to keep very careful watch on them, threatening them with lossof all their pay if they dared get drunk and lose him--a threat theyaccepted at its full face value, but resented because of Brown's andthe Greek's behavior the night before. They begged to get a littledrunk--to get half as drunk as Brown had been--half as drunk asCoutlass had been--not drunk at all, but just to drink a little. Wewere adamant, and Brown added to their resentment by preaching them asermon in their own tongue on the importance of being respectful towardwhite folk. 

Kazimoto came in toward dark, foot-weary, but primed with news, andmost of what he had to say confirmed the Baganda's story. Schillingschen, he said, was making for Mount Elgon in very leisurelystages, letting his loaded donkeys graze their way along, and spendinghours of his time in questioning natives along the way on every subjectunder the sun. 

Besides the fact of his leisurely progress, which was sufficientlyimportant in itself, we learned from Kazimoto that Schillingschen's ownten boys were unable to speak the language of the country beyond a fewof the commonest words--that they all slept in a tent together atnight, usually quite a little distance apart from Schillingschen's--andthat the donkeys were usually picketed between the two tents in a longline. He also told us the ten men had five Mauser rifles between them, in addition to the German's own battery of three guns, one of which hecarried all day and kept beside his bed at night; the other two werecarried behind him in the daytime by a gun-bearer. 

That was good news on the whole. Coutlass went out on the strength ofit and began to drink beer from the big earthenware crock in which thewomen had just brewed a fresh supply. Brown joined him within fiveminutes, and at the end of an hour, they were swearing everlastingfriendship, Coutlass promising Brown his cattle back, and Brownassuring him that Greece and the Greeks had always held his warmestpossible regards. 

"Thermopylae, y'know, old boy, an' Marathon, an' all that kind o'thing! How many miles in a day could a Greek run in them days? Gosh!"

They two drank themselves to sleep among the gentle cattle in thecircular enclosure in the midst of the village, and we--going out inturns at intervals to make sure our own boys were not drinking--maturedour plans in peace. 

We were too few to dare undertake the task in front of us without theaid of Brown and the Greek. It was a case of who was not against usmust be for us, and the end must justify both men and means. We triedto work out ways of managing without them, but when we thought of ourBaganda prisoner, and the almost certainty that both he and Coutlasswould race to give our game away to Schillingschen if let out of sightfor a minute, the necessity of making the best, not the worst, of theGreek seemed overwhelming. 

Early next morning, before the village had awakened from its glut ofbeer and hippo meat, we shook Coutlass and Brown to their feet none toogently, and, with the Baganda firmly secured by the wrists between twoof our men, started off, Fred leading. 

The village awoke as if by magic before we bad dragged away the thornsfrom the gate, and the chief leaped to the realization that the beadshe had promised his women were about as concrete as his drunken dreams. He and a swarm of his younger men followed us, begging andarguing--mile after mile--growing angrier and more importunate. It wasby my advice that we crossed the stream into the sleeping sickness zoneand left them shuddering on their own side. Our own men did not knowso much about the ravages of that plague, and in any case were willingto dare whatever risks we despised. But we took a long bend back andcrossed the stream again higher up as soon as the chief and his beggarswere out of sight. It was a pity not to keep exact faith and give themthe promised beads, if only for the sake of other white men who mightcamp there in the future; but more than two tons of hippo meat was notbad pay for their hospitality. 

We wished we had as good price to offer at the villages on our way, forsleep under cover we must, if we hoped to escape the ravages of fever;and the primitive savage, at least in those parts, had the principledown fine of nothing whatever for nothing. Yet as it turned out, thevery man whose company we looked on as a nuisance proved to be a key toall gates. We marched along the track the Baganda had taken. Thechiefs of all villages knew him again; and the men who dared take sucha prophet of evil prisoner were looked upon as high governmentofficials at least. 

We accepted that description of ourselves, letting it go by silentassent, and explained our lack of tents and almost every other thingthe white man generally travels with as due to haste. Heaven only knewwhat lies Kazimoto told those credulous folk, to the perfectly worthyend of making our lot bearable, but we were fed after a fashion, andlodged after a worse one all along our road. And who should send inreports about us--and to whom? Obviously white men with a prisoner, marching in such a hurry toward the north, were government officials. Who should report officials to their government? As for the tale aboutour having left our loads behind--are not all white people crazy? Whoshall explain their craziness?

>From being a nuisance the Baganda became a joke. When it dawned onhis fat intellect that we were hurrying toward Schillingschen with onlyone rifle among us and no baggage at all, he jumped at once to theconclusion we must be Schillingschen's friends; and his fear that weintended to hand him over to that ruthless brute for summary punishmentwas more melting to his backbone than the dread of our imaginary whip, that had caused him to give Schillingschen away. 

He tried to bite through the thongs that held him, but Will twisted forhim handcuffs out of thick iron wire that we begged from a chief, whohad intended to make ornaments with it for his own legs. We did notdare let the man escape, nor care to prevent our men from using forcewhen he threw himself on the ground and wept like a spoiled child. 

"I will tell you" he said at last, deciding he might as well be hangedfor mutton as for lamb, "what Bwana Schillingschen is searching for! Iwill tell you who knows where to find it! I will tell you where tofind the man who knows! Only let me run away then to my own home inUganda, and I will never again leave it! I am afraid! I am afraid!"

But that was only one more reason for keeping him with us, and noground at all for delay. He would not tell unless we loosed his handsfirst, so we pressed on, camping late and starting early, until aboutnoon of the fourth day we caught sight of Schillingschen's tents in thedistance, and gathered our party at once into a little rocky hollow todiscuss the situation. 

Behind us the land sloped gradually for thirty or forty miles toward asharp escarpment that overlooked the level land beside the lake. Attimes between the hills and trees we could glimpse Nyanza itself, looking like the vast rim of forever, mysterious and calm. In front ofus the rolling hills, broken out here and there into rocky knolls, piled up on one another toward the hump of Elgon, on which the blue skyrested. In every direction were villages of folk who knew so little ofwhite men that they paid no taxes yet and did no work--marrying andgiving in marriage--fighting and running away--eating and drinking andwatching their women cultivate the corn and beans and sweetpotatoes--without as much as foreboding of the taxes, work for wages, missionaries, law and commerce soon to come. 

Schillingschen was more than taking his time, he was dawdling, keepinghis donkeys fat, and letting his men wander at pleasure to right andleft gathering reports for him of unusual folk or things. We came veryclose to being seen by one of them, who emerged from a village near uswith a pair of chickens he had foraged, followed by the owner of theluckless birds in a great hurry and fury to get paid for them. 

Schillingschen's tent could fairly easily be stalked from the far sidein broad daylight, and I was for making the attempt. There was therisk that one of our porters might grow restless and break bounds if wewaited, or that the Baganda might take to yelling. We gagged him assoon as I talked of the danger of that. 

Coutlass and Brown, however, were the only two who would agree with me. Like me, they were weary to death of mtama porridge, with or withoutmilk, and the sight of Schillingschen's distant campfire with a greatpot resting on stones in the midst of it whetted appetite for whiteman's food. They and I were for supping as soon as possible from theGerman's provender, and sleeping under his canvas roof. 

But Fred and Will insisted on caution, claiming reasonably thatsurprise would be infinitely easier after dark. It was unlikely thatSchillingschen would post any sentries, and not much matter if he did. His knowledge of natives and natural air of authority made him quitesafe among any but the wildest, and these were a comparatively peacefulfolk. In all probability he would sit and read by candle light, withhis boys all snoring a hundred yards away. There was no making Fredand Will see the virtue of my contention that a sudden attack while hisboys were scattered all about among the villages would be just aslikely to succeed; so we settled down to wait where we were with whatpatience we could summon. 

It was a miserable, hungry business, under a blazing hot sky, packedtightly together among men who objected to our smell as strongly as weto theirs. It is the fixed opinion of all black people that the whiteman smells like "bad water"; and no word seems discoverable that willquite return the compliment. That afternoon was reminiscent of thelong days on the dhow, when nobody could move without disturbingeverybody else, and we all breathed the same hot mixed stench over andover. 

We posted two sentries to lie with their eyes on the level of the rimand guard against surprise. But there was so little to watch, exceptkites wheeling overhead everlastingly, that they went to sleep; and wewere so bored, and so sure of our hiding-place and Schillingschen'sunsuspicion that we did not notice them. I myself fell asleep towardfive o'clock, and when I awoke the sun was so low in the west that ourhollow lay in deep gloom. 

Fred was lying on his elbow, sucking an unfilled, unlighted pipe. Willlay on his side, too, with back toward both of us, ruminating. Coutlass and Brown were both asleep, but Coutlass awoke as I rolledover and struck him with my heel. Nearly all the porters were snoring. 

It was a sharp exclamation from the Greek that caused me to sit up andface due westward. The others lay as they were. It was the gloom inour hollow--the velvety shadows in which we lay with granite bouldersscattered between us, and no alertness on our part that saved that day, although Coutlass acted instantly and creditably, once awake. 

Schillingschen stood there looking down on us, with his feet plantedsquarely on the rim of the hollow, and Mauser rifle under one arm. Hisgreat splay beard flowed sidewise in the evening wind. One hand heheld over his eyes, trying to make out details in the dark, as stupidas we were. He stood with his back to the setting sun, exposinghimself without any thought of the risk he ran, his huge, filled-outhead refusing stubbornly to take in the truth of what had happened. Once convinced, the Prussian mind is not readily unconvinced. He hadassured himself long ago that our party was at the bottom of VictoriaNyanza. 

The second he did make out details he was swift to act, but that wasalready too late, although he did not know it at the moment. He threwup his rifle and laughed--a great deep guffaw from the stomach, thatawoke every one. 

"So, so!" he gloated. "So Mr. Oakes and his fellow escaped convictsare alive after all! Ha-ha-ho-ho! So you followed me all this way, only to forget that kites are curious! A fine comfortless journey youmust have had, too! There were twenty kites wheeling over you. Icounted, and wondered. Curiosity drove me to come and see. The firstman who moves a finger, Mr. Oakes, will die that instant! Let yourrifle lie where it is!"

It would be no use pretending the man had not courage, at all events ofthe sort that glories in the upper hand of a fight. He chuckled, andreveled in our predicament, taking in, now that his eyes had grownaccustomed to the darkness of our hollow, the utter lack of comforts orprovisions, and enjoying our disappointment. He certainly knew himselfmaster of the situation. 

"I suspect you have a man of mine down there with you!" he announcedpresently. "Is not that my Baganda? Is he gagged? Is he bound?Loose him, Mr. Oakes, at once!" I say at once! Otherwise you die now!"

He pointed his rifle directly at Fred, and the next second fired it, but not intentionally. Coutlass sprang from behind him, having crawledout through a shadow, and hit him so hard with a stone on the back ofthe skull that he loosed off the rifle and pitched head-foremost downamong us. The Greek promptly jumped on top of him with a yell like amaniac's, failing to land with both heels on his backbone by nothingbut luck. As it was, he lost balance and sat down so hard onSchillingschen's head that there was no need of the energy with whichwe all followed suit, piling all over him to pin him down like houndsthat have rolled their quarry over. 

The German was stunned--knocked into utter oblivion--breathing like asleeping drunkard, and bleeding freely from the nose. Coutlass jumpedoff him and began to execute a war dance up and down, yelling like amadman until Fred threatened him with the rifle and Will gagged himfrom behind. 

"Do you want his armed men down on us, you ass?"

"Gassharamminy!" he laughed. "I forgot about them! Let us go and eattheir supper!" He spoke as a man who had full right now to beconsidered a member in good standing. We all noticed it, and exchangedglances; but that was no time for argument about men's rights. 

Brown was already over the rim of the hollow and making in thedirection of the tents. We called him back and compelled him to stayon guard over the prisoners, to his awful disgust, for he suspectedthere was whisky among Schillingschen's "chop-boxes. " But so did we!We left all our boys with him except Kazimoto, threatening them withhitherto unheard of penalties if they dared as much as show a lock ofhair above the rim of the hollow while we were gone. 

Then the rest of us, with Fred leading and Kazimoto last of all, creptout and sought the lowest level along which to reach the camp. Willhad taken Schillingschen's rifle and went next after Fred. Coutlassfollowed so close on my heels that more than once he trod on them, andonce so nearly tripped me that Fred called a halt behind some bushesand cursed me for clumsiness. 

But it turned out to be easy hunting. The ten boys had tied thedonkeys up to a rope in line and sat crooning while their supper cookedat a long bright fire. We came up to Schillingschen's tent frombehind, crept around the side of it, and in a moment had three moregood weapons, I taking the big-bore elephant gun that had dealt with usso savagely on the lake, Coutlass seizing another Mauser, and Kazimotoadopting the shot-gun. 

The rest was child's play. We marched out of the tent all abreast andcalled on the ten boys to surrender, making them put up their handsuntil Coutlass had found their five rifles and ammunition. They weretoo astonished even to ask questions. Accustomed to Schillingschen'sdespotic orders, they obeyed ours silently, showing no symptoms oftrying to bolt, having nowhere to bolt to; but we took precautions. 

Kazimoto ran back to bring our party, and we took a coil of iron wirefrom Schillingschen's trade goods and fastened every prisoner's handsfirmly behind his back, including the unconscious German's. That done, we ate the meat, beans and vegetable supper that the ten had cooked. 

Brown and Coutlass found Schillingschen's whisky after that, and underits influence again swore ceaseless friendship beneath thenon-committal stars. While they feasted we took Coutlass' rifle awayas a plain precaution. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

PARCERE SUBJECTIS?

'When the devil's at bayYe may kneel down and prayFor a year and a dayTo be spared the distress of dispatching him, But the longer ye kneelThe more squeamish ye'll feel'Cause the louder he'll squeal, And at brotherly talk there's no matching him. Discussion's his aim, And as sure as you're gameTo give heed to the same, You regarding extremes with compunction, You may bet he'll requiteYour compassion with spite, Knifing you in the nightWith much probonopublico unction. 

For a while we looked like having trouble with Coutlass. We gave Browna rifle, and distributed the other Mausers among Kazimoto and our bestboys, but we did not dare trust the Greek with a weapon he might useagainst us, and be resented that bitterly. He had an answer to Fred'ssubterfuge that as a white man he would need a license before daring tocarry firearms. "I dare do anything! I care nothing for law!" heargued, and Fred nodded. 

That night we reveled in luxury, for after the life we had led recentlyit took time to reaccustom any of us to the common comforts. Schillingschen traveled with every provision for his carcass and hisbelly; and we plundered him. 

We put the prisoners and our own porters in a hut in the nearest nativevillage (less than half a mile away) under the watchful eye of Kazimotoand the shot-gun, dividing Schillingschen's two large tents betweenourselves. The others offered me the camp-bed as a recent invalid, butI refused, and Will won it by matching coins. We divided the blanketsin the same way, and all the spare underwear. Brown and Coutlass hadto be satisfied with cotton blankets from a bale of trade goods; butwhen they had rifled enough to build up good thick mattresses as wellas coverings, there were still two apiece for our boys and all theporters. 

The chop-boxes were a revelation. The man had with him food enough forat least a year's traveling, including all the canned delicacies thathungry men dream about in the wilderness. Before we slept we ate soenormously of so very many things that it was a wonder that we wereable to sleep at all. 

We all hoped Schillingschen would die, for it was a hard problem whatto do with him. He had no papers in his possession, beyond a diarywritten in German schrift that even Will could not make head or tailof, for all his knowledge of the language; and a very vague mapbearing the imprint of the British government, filled in by himselfwith the names of the villages he had passed on his way. There was noproof that we could find that would have condemned him of nefariouspractises in a British court of law. 

"And believe me, " argued Will, sprawling on the plundered bed, blowingthe smoke of a Melachrino through his nose, "your local British judgeswould take the word of Professor Schillingschen against all of ours, backed up by simply overwhelming native evidence! They're so in awe ofSchillingschen's professorial degree, and of his passports, and hisletters of introduction from this and that mogul that they wouldn'tbelieve him guilty of arson if they caught him in the act!"

"Something's got to be done with him pretty soon, though, " answeredFred from the floor, lying at ease on a pillow and a folded Jaegerblanket, smoking a fat cigar. 

Coutlass and Brown were singing songs outside the tent and I sat in agenuine armchair with my feet on a box full of canned plum pudding. (Nobody knows, who has not hungered on the high or low veld--who hasnot eaten meat without vegetables for days on end, and then porridgewithout salt or sugar--how good that common, export, canned plumPudding is! To sit with my feet on the case that contained it was thearrogance of affluence!)

"We have his stores and his papers, " said I. "We have his Baganda;and as time goes on, and his other spies begin to come in, we shallhave them, too, if we're half careful. Why don't we let him go, totell his own tale wherever he likes?"

"Maybe he'll die yet!" said the optimist on the camp-bed, blowing morecigarette smoke. 

"Suppose he doesn't. We've done our best to keep him alive. He's quitbleeding. Suppose we let him go, and he lays a charge against us. Suppose they send after us and bring us in. We've his diary and hismen--evidence enough, " said I. 

"You bally ass!" Fred murmured. 

"Cuckoo!" laughed Will. 

"I don't believe he'd dare approach a British official with his story, "said I. 

"Incredible imbecile!" Fred answered. "He has the gall of a brassmonkey. "

"And magnetism--loads of it, " Will added. "He'd make the Pope playthree-card monte. "

"To say nothing, " continued Fred, "of the necessity of not letting thegovernment know we're here! Rather than turn him loose, I'd march himinto Kisumu and hand him over. But, as Will says wisely, ourproconsuls would believe him, and put us under bonds for outraging adistinguished foreigner. "

"Well, then, " said I, "what the devil shall we do with him? Offersomething constructive, you two solons!"

"Have the four men we borrowed from the island bolted home yet?"wondered Will. 

"They hadn't this evening, " I answered. "I don't believe they'llventure home until we stop feeding them. They were hungry on theirisland. Our shortest commons then seemed affluence. Now they're inheaven!"

"Their canoes must be where they left them in the papyrus. "

"Sure. Who'd steal a canoe?"

"Whoever could find them, " Fred answered. "But they're skilfullyhidden. Why don't we put Schillingschen and his ten pet blacks intothose canoes, with a little food and no rifles--and show them the wayto German East?"

"Because, " said I, "they wouldn't go. They'd turn around and paddlefor Kisumu, to file complaint against us. "

"Don't you suppose, " suggested Will, "that Schillingschen's own men 'udinsist on going home? Out on the water, ten to one, without guns ortoo much food, they wouldn't have the same fear of him they hadformerly. "

"That chance is too broad and long and deep, " said Fred. "Altogethertoo bulky to be taken. Let's sleep on it. This cigar's done, and I'mdrowsy. Are you quite sure Schillingschen's hands are fast behind him? Then good night, all!"

The problem looked no easier next morning, with Schillingschenrecovered sufficiently to be hungry and sit up. There was a look inhis eye of smoldering courage and assurance that did not bode well forus, and when we untwisted the iron wire from his wrists to let him washhimself and eat he looked about him with a sort of quick-fire cunningthat belied his story of headache. 

He was much too astute a customer to be judged superficially. Iwhispered to Fred not to shackle him again too soon, and sat near andwatched him, close enough for real safety, yet not so close that hemight not venture to try tricks. He said nothing whatever, but Inoticed that his eye, after roving around the tent, kept returningagain and again to a chop-box that stood near the foot of the bed. 

Now I had unpacked that chop-box and repacked it the previous night. Iknew everything it contained--exactly how many cans of plum pudding. It was the box I had rested my feet on. I felt perfectly sure he knewas well as I what the box contained, and to suppose he would sit thereplanning to recover canned food, however dainty, was ridiculous. 

Wherefore it was a safe conclusion he was trying to deceive me as tohis real intention. I put my foot on the box again, and he frowned, asmuch as to say I had forestalled his only hope. Pretending to watchthe box and him, I examined every detail of the tent, particularly thatside of it opposite the box, away from where it seemed he wanted me tolook. 

The human eye is a highly imperfect piece of mechanism and the humanbrain is mostly grayish slush. It was minutes before I detected theedge of his diary, sticking out from the pocket of Fred's shooting coatthat itself protruded from under the folded blanket on which Fred hadslept. It was nearer to Schillingschen than to me. After watching himfor about fifteen minutes, during which he made a great fuss about hisheadache, I was quite sure it was the diary that interested him. 

I stooped and extracted it from the coat pocket. The grimace he madewas certainly not due to headache. 

"Fred!" I called out, and he and Will came striding in together. 

"That diary's the key, " I said. "It's important. It holds hissecrets!"

Will was swift to put that to the test. 

"What will you offer?" he asked Schillingschen. "We want you to goback direct to German East. Will you go, if we give you back yourdiary?"

Schillingschen blundered into the trap like a buffalo in strangesurroundings. 

"Ja wohl!" he answered. "Give me that, and yon shall never see meagain!"

At that Fred threw himself full length on his blanket and took one ofSchillingschen's cigars. 

"Of course, " he said, "you would give anything for leave to take thosewords back! You needn't try to hide the wince--we fully appreciate thesituation! What do you say, you fellows? How about last night's idea? Who mooted it? Shall we send him back by canoe to German East, with aguarantee that if he doesn't go we'll hand over diary and him to ourgovernment?"

"Better send the book to the commissioner at Nairobi, or Mombasa, orwherever he is, " suggested Will. "Then if the 'prof' here doesn't geta swift move on he's liable to be overtaken by the cops, I should say. "

"Let's make no promises, " said I. "I vote we simply give him time toget away. "

At that the Germain saw the weak side of our case in a flash. 

"If you dared give that diary to your government, " be growled, "youwould do so without bargaining with me! Why do you propose to let mego? Out of love for me? No! But because you dare not appeal to yourgovernment! Give me that diary, and I will go at once to German East, not otherwise! It is only a diary, " he added. "Nothingimportant--merely my private jottings and memoranda. "

Fred turned toward me so that Schillingschen could not see his face. 

"Are you willing to start for Kisumu at once with that book?" he asked, and I nodded. He winked at me so violently that I could not trustmyself to answer aloud and keep a straight face. 

"Very well, "' he said. "Suppose you start with it to-morrow morning. At the end of a week well turn the professor home to follow his ownnose!"

Schillingschen shrugged his shoulders and refused to be drawn intofurther argument. We gave him a good meal from his own provisions, andthen once more made his hands fast with wire behind him and left him tosleep off his rage if he cared to in a corner of the tent. 

Later that morning we sent for the Baganda--gave him a view ofSchillingschen trussed and helpless--and questioned him about the manhe boasted he knew, who could tell us what Schillingschen was after. He was so full of fear by that time that he held back nothing. 

He assured us the German was after buried ivory. There was a man, whohad promised to meet Schillingschen, who knew where to find the ivoryand would lead the way to it. He did not know names or places--knewonly that the man would be found waiting at a certain place, and wasnot white. 

"How did you get that information?" Fred demanded. 

"By listening. "

"When? Where?"

"At night, months ago, in Nairobi, outside the professor's tent. I layunder the fly among the loads and listened. The man came in the dark, and went in the dark. I did not see him. I did not hear him called byname. He must have been an old man. Speaking Kiswahili, he admittedhe knew where the ivory is. He said he saw it buried, and that healone survives of all men who buried it. He promised to lead theprofessor to the place on condition that the Germans shall release hisbrother, and his brother's wife, and two sons whom they keep in prisonon a life-sentence. The professor agreed, but said, 'Wait! There arefirst those people who also think they know the secret. Perhaps theydo! Wait until after I have dealt with them. Then you shall take meto the place! After that your criminal relations shall be pardoned!Here is money. Go and wait for me at the place we spoke of when wetalked before. '"

We each cross-examined him in turn, but could not make him change hisstory in any essential. He merely exaggerated the parts that heguessed might please us, and begged to be allowed to run beforeSchillingschen could break loose and get after him. 

By noontime, when we gave him his second meal, Schillingschen had madeup his own mind that his case was desperate and called for heroicremedy. 

"All right, " he growled. "I need that diary. Hand it to me and I'lltell you how to find what you're after!"

"You mean about the man who's to meet you?" suggested Fred blandly. 

Schillingschen started as if shot. 

"One of your men is an eavesdropper, " Fred assured him with a cheerfulnod. "That plug has been pulled already, Professor!"

"Ley's play the cards face up!" Will interrupted impatiently. "Listen, Schillingschen. You're an all-in scoundrel. You're a spy. You're abloody murderer of women and defenseless natives. If we could provethat we wouldn't argue with you. We know you burned that dhow with thewomen in it, but we've got no evidence, that's all. We know the Germangovernment wants that ivory, and we know why. We also want it. Ouronly reason for secrecy is that we hope for better terms from theBritish government. We've nothing to fear, except possible financialloss. If you prefer to come with us to Kisumu and have the wholematter out in court, all you need do is just say so. On the otherhand, if you want to get out of this country before your diary canreach the hands of the British High Commissioner--you'd just betterslide, that's all!"

"You've only until dawn to think it over, " remarked Fred. "You poorboob!" continued Will. "You imagine we're criminals because you're oneyourself! The difference between your offer and ours is that you'rebluffing and we know it, whereas we're not bluffing by as much as ahair, and the quicker you see that the better for you!"

"Oh, rats! Let's take him in with us to Kisumu!" said I, and at thatProfessor Schillingschen capitulated. 

"Very well" he said. "Kurtz und gut. I will leave the country. Permitme to take only food enough, and my porters, and one gun!"

"No guns!" said Fred promptly. 

Schillingschen sighed resignedly, and we went out of the tent to talkover ways and means. In spite of our recent experience of Germany'scolonial government we were still so ignorant of the workings of themens germanica that we took his surrender at face value. 

The problem of getting him down to the lake shore safely was none toosimple. I was soft hearted and headed enough to propose that we shouldloose his hands, now that he had surrendered, and permit him reasonableliberty. Will--least inclined of all of us to cruelty--was disposed toagree with me. We might have overborne Fred's objections if Coutlassand Brown, returning from walking off their overnight debauch together, had not shouted and beckoned us in a mysterious sort of way, as if somenew discovery puzzled them. 

We walked about a hundred and fifty yards to where they stood by a rowof low ant-hills. Neither of them was in a sociable frame of mind. Itwas obvious from the moment we could see their faces clearly that theyhad not called us to enjoy a joke. They stood like two dumb bird-dogs, pointing, and we had to come about abreast of them before we knew whywe were summoned. 

There lay five clean-picked skeletons, one on each ant-hill. One was abig bird's; one looked like a dog's; the third was a snake's; thefourth a young antelope's; and the fifth was certainly that of ayellow village cur, for some of the hairs from the tip of its tail wereremaining, not yet borne off by the ants. 

The skeletons lay as if the creatures had died writhing. There werepegs driven into the earth that had evidently held them in position bythe sinews. Most peculiar circumstance of all, there was a camp-chairstanding very near by, with its feet deep in the red earth, as if avery heavy man had sat in it. 

I went back to the camp and told Kazimoto to bring one of theprofessor's men. Kazimoto had to do the talking, for we did not knowthe man's language, nor he ours. 

Yes, the professor always did that to animals. He liked to sit andwatch them and keep the kites away. He said it was white man'sknowledge (science?). Yes, the animals were pegged out alive on theant-hills, and the professor would sit with his watch in his hand, counting the minutes until they ceased from writhing. It was part ofthe duty of the ten to catch animals and bring them alive to him incamp for that purpose. No, they did not know why he did it, exceptthat it was white maia's knowledge. No, natives did not do that way, except now and then to their enemies. The professor always madethreats he would do so to them if they ran away from him, or disobeyed, or misbehaved. Certainly they believed him! Why should they notbelieve him? Did not Germans always keep their word when they talkedof punishment?

We decided after that to let Schillingschen lie bound, whether or notthe iron wire cut his wrists. We did not trouble to go back to inquirewhether he needed drink, but let him wait for that until supper-time. The remainder of that afternoon we spent discussing who should have thedisagreeable and not too easy task of taking the professor to the lakeand sending him on his way. We sat with our backs against a rock, withthe firearms beside us and a good view of all the countryside, verymuch puzzled as to whether to leave Coutlass behind in camp (with Brownand the whisky) or send him (with or without Brown) and one or two ofus on the errand. He was a dangerous ally in either case. 

Evening fell, and the good smell of supper came along the wind to findus still undecided. We returned to the tent thinking that perhapssomething Schillingschen himself might say would help us to decide oneway or the other. 

"Better see if the brute wants a drink, " said Fred, and I went in aheadto offer him water. 

He was gone! Clean gone, without a trace, or a hint as to how hemanaged it! I called the others, and we hunted. The sides of the tentwere pegged down tight all around. The front, it is true, was wideopen, but we had sat in full view of it and not so much as a rat couldhave crept out without our seeing. There were no signs of burrowing. He was not under the bed, or behind the boxes, or between the sides ofthe tent and the fly. The only cover for more than a hundred yards wasthe shallow depression along which we had come to the capture of thecamp, and that was the way he must have taken. But that, too, had beenpractically in full view of us all the time. 

We counted heads and called the roll. Coutlass was close by. It didnot look as if he had played traitor this time. Brown was sleeping offhis headache in the shade. Kazimoto and all the boys were accountedfor. The prisoners were safe. No donkeys were missing--nofirearms--and no loads. The earth had simply opened up and swallowedSchillingschen, and that was all about it!

He had not made off with his pocket diary. Fred had that. There andthen we packed it in an empty biscuit tin and buried it under a rock, Will and I keeping watch while Fred did the digging and covering up. It was too likely that Schillingschen would come back in the night andtry to steal it for any of us to care about keeping it on his person. 

It was too late to look far and wide for him that evening. A huntersuch as he could have lain unseen in the dark with us almost steppingon him. Gone was all appetite for supper! We nibbled, and swore, andsmoked--locked up the whisky--defied either Brown or Coutlass to try tobreak the boxes open--and arranged to take turns on sentry-go all thatnight, Will, Fred, and I--declining very pointedly offers by the othertwo to have their part in keeping watch. In spite of lack of evidencewe suspected Coutlass; and we knew no particular reason for havingconfidence in Brown. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE SONG OF THE DARK-LORDS

Turn in! Turn in! The jungle lords come forth Cat-footed, blazing-eyed--the owners of the dark, What though ye steal the day! We know the worth Of vain tubes spitting at a phantom markWith only human eyes to guide the fire! Tremble, ye hairless ones, who only see by day, The night is ours! Who challenges our ire? Urrumph! Urrarrgh! Turn in there! Way!

Ye come with iron lines and dare to camp Where we were lords when Daniel stood a test!Where once the tired safaris used to tramp On noisy wheels ye loll along at rest!Tremble, ye long-range lovers of the day, 'Twas we who shook the circus walls of ancient Rome!The dark is ours! Take cover! Way there! Way! Urmmph! Urrarrgh! Take cover! Home!

The man who tries to explain away coincidences to men who were thevictims of them is likely to need more sympathy than he will get. Thedictionary defines them clumsily as instances of coinciding, apparentlyaccidental, but which suggest a casual connection. 

Lions paid us a visit that first night after Schillingschen'sescape--the first lions we had seen or heard since landing on the northshore of the lake. We prayed they might get Schillingschen, yet theyand he persisted until morning--they roaring and circling never nearenough for the man on guard to get a shot--he also circling the camp, calling to his ten men, whom we had transferred from the native villageto the second tent under guard of Kazimoto and our own men as aprecaution. 

Our boys slept as if drugged, but not his. He called to them in alanguage that even Kazimoto did not understand, and they kept answeringat intervals. Once, when I was listening to locate Schillingschen if Icould, the lions came sniffing and snuffing to the back side of thetent. I tried to stalk them--a rash, reprehensible, tenderfoot trick. Luck was with me; they slunk away in the shadows, and I lived tosummon Fred and Will. We tried to save the donkeys, but the lions tookthree of them at their leisure, and scared the rest so that they brokeout of the thorn-bush boma we had made the boys build (as a precautionagainst leopards, not lions). Next morning out of forty we recoveredtwenty-five, and wondered how many of them Schillingschen got. 

Remembering how we ourselves had managed, without ammunition orsupplies, we did not fool ourselves with the belief thatSchillingschen, with his brutal personal magnetism and profoundknowledge of natives, would not do better. The probability was hewould stir up the countryside against us. 

He had been doing missionary work; it might be the natives of thatpart were already sufficiently schooled to do murder at his bidding. 

We decided to leave at once for a district where he had not yet doneany of his infernal preaching. 

"You should set a trap and shoot the swine!" Coutlass insisted. Willwas inclined to agree with him, but Fred and I demurred. The Britishwrit had never really run as far as the slopes of Elgon, and we couldsee them ahead of us not very many marches away. If Schillingschenintended to dog us and watch chances we preferred to have him do thatin a remote wilderness, where our prospect of influencing natives wouldlikely be as good as his, that was all. 

Part of our strategy was to make an early start and march swiftly, taking advantage of his physical weariness after a night in the open onthe prowl; but after a few days in camp it is the most difficult thingimaginable to get a crowd of porters started on the march. It was moreparticularly difficult on that occasion because none of our men werefamiliar with Schillingschen's loads, and the captured ten, even whenwe loosed their hands and treated them friendly, showed no dispositionto be useful. We gave them a load apiece to carry, but to every one wehad to assign two of our own as guards, so that, what with having lostthe fifteen donkeys, we had not a man to spare. 

It was after midday when we got off at last. We had not left the campmore than half a mile behind when I looked back and saw Schillingschenwhere his great tent had stood, cavorting on hands and feet like anenormous dog-baboon, searching every inch of the ground for anything wemight have left. We three stood and watched him for half an hour, sweating with fear lest he chance on the place where his diary layburied in the tin box. We began to wish we had brought it with us. Isaid we had done foolishly to leave it, although I had approved ofFred's burying it at the time. 

"Suppose, " I argued, "he sets the natives of that village to searching! What's to prevent him? You know the kind of job they'd make ofit--blade by blade of grass--pebble by pebble. Where they found atrace of loosened dirt they'd dig. "

"Did you bury something, then?" inquired a voice we knew too well. "Bythe ace of stinks, those natives can smell out anything a white manever touched!"

We turned and faced Coutlass, whom we had imagined on ahead with thesafari. If he noticed our sour looks, he saw fit to ignore them; buthe took an upperhanded, new, insolent way with us, no doubt due to ourrefusal to shoot Schillingschen. He ascribed that to a yellow streak. 

"I was right. Gassharamminy! I could have sworn I saw two of you onwatch while the third man dug among the stones! What did you bury? Icame back to talk about Brown. The poor drunkard wants to head more tothe east. I say straight on. What do you say?"

We told him to go forward. Then we looked in one another's eyes, andsaid nothing. Whether or not the original decision had been wise, there was no question now what was the proper course. 

Instead of tiring out Schillingschen we made an early camp by awatercourse, and built a very big protection for the donkeys againstlions--a high thorn enclosure, and an outer one not so high, with aspace between them wide enough for the two tents and half a dozen bigfires. Before dark we had enough fuel stacked up to keep the firesblazing well all night long. 

Neither Coutlass nor Brown had had a drink of whisky that day, so itwas all the more remarkable that Coutlass lay down early in a corner ofthe tent and fell into a sound sleep almost at once. We werethoroughly glad of it. Our plan was for two of us to creep out of campwhen it was dark enough, and recover the contents of that tin boxbefore Schillingschen or the blacks could forestall us. 

The lions began roaring again at about sundown, but they lovedonkey-meat more than almost any except giraffe, and it was not likelythey would trouble us. We were so sure the task was not particularlyrisky that Fred, who would have insisted on the place of greater dangerfor himself, consented willingly enough to stay in camp while Will andI went back. Our original intention was to take Schillingschen'spatent, wind-proof, non-upsettable camp lantern to find the way withand keep wild beasts at bay; but just as Will went toward the tent tofetch it (Fred's back was turned, over on the far side where he wasseeing to the camp-fires) we both at once caught sight of Coutlasscreeping on hands and knees along a shadow. We had closed the gap inthe outer wall of thorn, but he dragged aside enough to make an openingand slipped through, thinking himself unobserved. 

To have followed him with a lantern would have been worse than my crimeof stalking lions in the dark. Will ran to tell Fred what had happenedwhile I followed the Greek through the gap, and presently Will and Iwere both hot on his trail, as close to him as we could keep withoutletting him hear us. 

"Fred says, " Will whispered, "if we catch him talking withSchillingschen, shoot 'em both! Fred won't let him into camp againunless we bring back proof he's not a traitor!"

We were pursuing a practised hunter, who at first kept stopping to makesure he was not followed. He took a line across that wild country inthe dark with such assurance, and so swiftly that it was unbelievablyhard to follow him quietly. It was not long before we lost sound ofhim. Then we ran more freely, trusting to luck as much as anything tokeep him thinking he had the darkness to himself. 

Our short day's journey seemed to have trebled itself! We wereleg-weary and tired-eyed when at last we reached, and nearly fell intoa hollow we recognized. Will went down and struck a match to get alook at his watch. 

"There ought to be a moon in about ten minutes, " he whispered. "We'rewithin sight of the place. Suppose we climb a tree and scout about abit. "

It was not a very big tree that we selected, but it was the biggest;it had low branches, and the merit of being easy to climb. 

When the pale latter half of the moon announced itself we could dimlymake out from the upper branches all of the flat ground where the camphad been. There was no sign of Coutlass. None of Schillingschen. Alioness and two enormous lions stood facing one another in a triangle, almost exactly on the spot where the larger tent had stood, not fiftyyards from us. 

"Gee!"' whispered Will excitedly. "We nearly stumbled on 'em!"

"Shoot!" I whispered. My own position on the branch was so insecurethat I could not have brought my rifle into use without making aprodigious noise. Will shook his head. 

"I can see Coutlass now! Look at that rock--he's hiding behindit--see, he's climbing! And look, there's Schillingschen!"

Neither man was aware of the other's presence, or of ours. They wereout of sight of each other, Coutlass on the very rocks against which wehad leaned to watch the tent the afternoon before, and neither manreally out of reach of anything with claws that cared to go after themin earnest. 

The arrival of the dim moon seemed to give the lions their cue foraction. The lioness turned half away, as if weary of waiting, and thenlay down full-length to watch as one lion sprang at the other with aroar like the wrath of warring worlds. They met in mid-air, claw toclaw, and went down together--a roaring, snarling, eight-legged, two-tailed catastrophe--never apart--not still an instant--tearing, beating--rolling over and over--emitting bellows of mingled rage andagony whenever the teeth of one or other brute went home. 

Even as shadows fighting in the shadows they were terrible to watch. They shook the very earth and air, as if they owned all the primevalbestial force of all the animals. And the she-lion lay watching them, her eyes like burning yellow coals, not moving a muscle that we couldsee. 

Iron could not have withstood the blows; the thunder of them reachedus in the tree! Steel ropes could not have endured the strain as clawswent home, and the brutes wrenched, ripped, and yelled in titanicagony. Their fury increased. Wounds did not seem to enfeeble them. Nothing checked the speed of the fighting an instant, until suddenlythe lioness stood erect, gave a long loud call like a cat's, and turnedand vanished. 

She had seen. She knew. Like a spring loosed from its containing boxone of the lions freed himself in mid-air and hurtled clear, landing onall-fours and hurrying away after the lioness with a bad limp. Theother lion fell on his side and lay groaning, then roaredhalf-heartedly and dragged himself away. 

The second lion had hardly gone when Coutlass descended gingerly fromthe rock, peering about him, and listening. He evidently had nosuspicion of our presence, for he never once looked in our direction. It was Schillingschen, not lions, he feared; and Schillingschen, clambering over the top of another rock, watched him as a night-beasteyes its prey. Another one-act drama was staged, and it was not timefor us to come down from the tree yet. 

Satisfied he was not followed and that Schillingschen was elsewhere, Coutlass crept from rock to rock toward the little cluster of smallones where, by his own confession, he had seen Fred bury the box. Schillingschen stalked him through the shadows as actively as a greatape, making no sound, as clearly visible to us as he was invisible toCoutlass. 

There was not a trace of mist--nothing to obscure the dim pale light, and as the moon swung higher into space we could see both men's everymovement, like the play of marionettes. 

Down on his knees at last among the small loose rocks, Coutlass begandigging with his fingers--grew weary of that very soon, and drew outthe long knife from his boot--dug with that like a frenzied man untilfrom our tree we heard the hard point strike on metal. ThenSchillingschen began to close in, and it was time for us to drop downfrom the tree. 

We made an abominable lot of noise about it, for the tree creaked, andour clothing tore on the thorny projections of limbs that seemed tohave grown there since we climbed. To make matters worse, I steppedoff the lowest branch, imagining there was another branch beneath it, and fell headlong, rifle and all, with a clatter and thump that shouldhave alarmed the village half a mile away. And Will, not knowing whatI had done but alarmed by the noise I made, jumped down on top of me. 

We picked ourselves up and listened. We could hear the short quickstabs of the knife as Coutlass loosed and scooped the earth out. Amongthe myriad noises of the African night our own, that seemed appallingto us, had passed unnoticed--or perhaps Schillingschen heard, andthought it was the injured lion dragging himself away. (Nobody neededworry about the chance of attack from that particular lion for many anight to come; he would ask nothing better than to be left to eat miceand carrion until his awful wounds were healed. )

Reassured by the sound of digging we crept forward, knowing pretty wellthe best path to take from having seen Schillingschen stalking. But itwas more by dint of their obsession than by any skill of ours that wecrept up near without giving them alarm. Coutlass was still on hisknees, throwing out the last few handfuls of loose dirt. Schillingschen stood almost over him, so close that the thrown dirtstruck against his legs. 

We took up positions in the shadow, one to either side, almost afraidto breathe, I cursing because the rifle quivered in my two hands likethe proverbial aspen leaf. The prospect of shooting a white man--evensuch a thorough-paced blackguard white as Schillingschen--made me asnervous as a school-girl at a grown-up party. 

At last Coutlass groped down shoulder-deep and drew the box out. 

"Give that to me!" Schillingschen shouted like a thunder-clap, makingme jump as if I were the one intended. 

The moonlight gleamed on the tin box. Coutlass did not drop it butturned his head to look behind him. Schillingschen swung for his facewith a clenched fist and the whole weight and strength of his ungainlybody. He would have broken the jaw he aimed at had the blow landed;but the Greek's wit was too swift. 

He kicked like a mule, hard and suddenly, ducking his head, and thendiving backward between the German's legs that were outspread to givehim balance and leverage for the fist-blow. Schillingschen pitchedover him head-forward, landing on both hands with one shoulder in thehole out of which the box had come. With the other arm he reached forthe knife that Coutlass had laid on the loose earth. Coutlass reachedfor it, too, too late, and there followed a fight not at all inferiorin fury to the battle of the lions. Humans are only feebler than thebeasts, not less malicious. 

Will reached for the tin box, opened it, took out the diary, closed itagain, put the diary in his own inner pocket, and returned the box;but they never saw or heard him. The German, with an arm as strong asan ape's, thrust again and again at Coutlass, missing his skin by abait's breadth as the Greek held off the blows with the utmost strengthof both hands. 

Suddenly Coutlass sprang to his feet, broke loose for a second, landeda terrific kick in the German's stomach, and closed again. He twistedSchillingschen's great splay beard into a wisp and wrenched it, forcinghis head back, holding the knife-hand in his own left, and spittingbetween the German's parted teeth; then threw all his weight on himsuddenly, and they went down together, Coutlass on top andSchillingschen stabbing violently in the direction of his ribs. 

Letting go the beard, Coutlass rained blows on the German's face withhis free fist. Made frantic by that assault Schillingschen squirmedand upset the Greek's balance, rolled him partly over and, blinded by avery rain of blows, slashed and stabbed half a dozen times. Coutlassscreamed once, and swore twice as the knife got in between his bones. The German could not wrench it out again. With both hands free now, the Greek seized him by the throat and began to throttle him, beatingwith his forehead on the purple face the while his steel fingerskneaded, as if the throat were dough. 

We were not at all inclined to stop Coutlass from killing the man. Wecame closer, to see the end, and Coutlass caught sight of us at last. 

"Shoot him!" he screamed. "Gassharamminy! Shoot him, can't you, whileI hold him!"

As he made that appeal the German convulsed his whole body like anearthquake, wrenched the knife loose at last, and as Coutlass changedposition to guard against a new terrific stab rolled him over, freedhimself and stood with upraised hand to give the finishing blow. Thensuddenly he saw us and his jaw dropped, the beastly mess that had beenhis well-kept beard dropping an inch and showing where the Greeks fisthad broken the front teeth. But that was only for a second--a secondthat gave Coutlass time to rise to his knees, and dodge the descendingblow. 

I made up my mind then it was time to shoot the German, whatever thecrimes of the Greek might be; but Coutlass had not grown slower of witfrom loss of blood. As he dodged he rolled sidewise and seized myrifle, jerking it from my hand. He jerked too quickly. The German sawthe move and kicked it, sending it spinning several yards away. We allmade a sudden scramble for it, Schillingschen leading, when the Germanturned as suddenly as one of the great apes he so resembled, trippedWill by the heel, wrenched the rifle from his right hand, pounced onthe empty tin box, and was gone!

Too late, I remembered my own rifle and fired after him, emptying themagazine at shadows. 

Will's rage and self-contempt were more distressing than the Greek'sspouting knife-wounds. 

"By blood and knuckle-bones! Give me that gun of yours, will you! Igo after the swine! I cut his liver out! Where is my knife? Ah, there it is! Stoop and give it me, for my ribs hurt! So! Now I goafter him!"

We held Coutlass back, making him be still while we tore his shirt instrips, and then our own, and tried to staunch the blood, Will almostblubbering with rage while his fingers worked, and the Greek cursing usboth for wasting time. 

"He has the box!" he screamed. "He has the rifle!"

"He has no ammunition but what's in the magazine, " said I; and thatstarted Will off swearing at himself all over again from the beginning. 

"You damned yegg!" he complained as be knotted two strips of shirt. "This would never have happened if you hadn't sneaked out to steal thecontents of the box!"

Suddenly Coutlass screamed again, like a mad stallion smelling battle. 

"There he is! There the swine is! I see him! I hear him! Give methat--"

He reached for my rifle, but I was too quick that time and steppedback out of range of his arm. As I did that the blood burst anew fromhis wounds. He put his left hand to his side and scattered the hotblood up in the air in a sort of votive offering to the gods of Greekrevenge, and, brandishing the long knife, tore away into the dark. 

"I see him!" he yelled. "I see the swine! By Gassharamminy! To-nighthis naked feet'll blister on the floor of hell!"

We followed him, enthralled by mixed motives made of desire and a sortof half-genuine respect for the courage of this man, who claimed threecountries and disgraced each one at intervals in turn. We did not goso fast as he. We were not so enamored of the risks the dark contained. 

Suddenly there came out of the blackness just ahead a marrow-curdlingcry--agony, rage, and desperation--that surely no human everuttered--roar, yelp of pain, and battle-cry in one. 

"Help!" yelled Coutlass. "Help! Oh-ah! Ah!"

We raced forward then, I leading with my rifle thrust forward. Asecond later I fired; and that was the only time in my life I evertouched a lion's face with a rifle muzzle before I pulled the trigger!The brute fell all in a heap, with Coutlass underneath him and theGreek's long knife stuck in his shoulder to the hilt. The lion musthave died within the minute without my shot to finish him. 

Coutlass lay dead under the defeated beast that had crawled away tohide and lick his wounds. We dragged his body out from under, and inproof that Schillingschen, the common enemy, lived, a bullet camewhistling between us. The flash of my shot had given him direction. Perhaps he could see us, too, against the moon. We ducked, and laystill, but no more shots came. 

"He's only got four left, " Will whispered. "Maybe he'll husband those!"

"Maybe he knows by now that box is empty!" said I. "He'll stalk us onthe way back!"

"Us for the tree, then, until morning!" said Will. 

"Sure!" I answered. "And be shot out of it like crows out of a nest!"

But Will had the right idea for all that. He was merely getting at itin his own way. After a little whispering we went to work with feveredfingers, stripping off the bloody bandages we had tied on the Greek'sribs--stripping off more of his clothes--then more of ours--tying themall into one--then skinning the mangled lion with the long knife thathad really ended his career, tearing the hide into strips and knottingthem each to each. In twenty minutes we had a slippery, smeary, smellyrope of sorts. In five more we had dragged the Greek's dead bodyunderneath the tree. 

Then I went back to the vantage point among the rocks and waited untilWill had thrown the rope with a stone tied to its end over an upperbranch. Presently I saw Coutlass' dead body go clambering ungracefullyup among the branches, looking so much less dead than alive that Ithought at first Will must have tangled the rope in the crotch of thetree and be clambering up to release it. 

The ruse worked. Georges Coutlass served us dead as well as living. Out of the darkness to my left there came a flash and a report. I didnot look to see whether the corpse in the tree jerked as the bulletstruck. Before the flash had died--almost before the crack of thereport bad reached my ear-drums I answered with three shots in quicksuccession. 

"Did you get him?" called Will. 

"I don't know, " I answered. "If I didn't, he's only got threecartridges left!"

We left the Greek's body in the tree for Schillingschen to shoot atfurther if be saw fit; it was safer there from marauding animals thanif we had laid it on the ground, and as for the rites of the dead, itwas a toss-up which was better, kites and vultures, or jackals and theants. We saw no sense that night in laboring with a knife and ourhands to bury a body that the brutes would dig up again within fiveminutes of our leaving it. 

"Schillingschen has three cartridges, "' sad Will. "One each for you, meand Fred Oakes! I'll stay and trick him some more. I'll think up anew plan. I don't care if he gets me. I'd hate to face Fred withoutmy rifle, and have to tell him the enemy is laying for him with itthrough my carelessness. "

It was my first experience of Will with hysteria, for it amounted tothat. I remembered that to cure a bevy of school-girls of it oneshould rap out something sharply, with a cane if need be. Yet Will wasnot like a school-girl, and his hysteria took the pseudo-manly form ofrefusal to retreat. I yearned for Fred's camp-fires, and Fred's laugh, hot supper, or breakfast, or whatever the meal would be, and blankets. Will, with a ruthless murderer stalking him in the dark, yearned onlyfor self-contentment. All at once I saw the thing to do, and thrust myrifle in his hands. 

"Take it, " I said. "Hunt Schillingschen all night if you want to. I'mgoing back to tell Fred I've lost my rifle, and was afraid to face youfor fear you'd laugh at me. Go on--take it! No, you've got to takeit!"

I let the rifle fall at his feet, and he was forced to pick it up. Bythat time I was on my way, and he had to hurry if he hoped to catch me. I kept him hurrying--cursing, and calling out to wait. And so, hourslater, we arrived in sight of Fred's fires and answered his cheerychallenge:

"Halt there, or I'll shoot your bally head off!"

Lions had kept him busy making the boys pile thornwood on the fires. He had shot two--one inside the enclosure, where the brute had jumpedin a vain effort to reach the frantic donkeys. We stumbled over thecarcass of the other as we made our way toward the gate-gap, anddragged it in ignominiously by the tail (not such an easy task as theuninitiated might imagine. )

Once within the enclosure I left Will to tell Fred his story as bestsuited him, Fred roaring with laughter as he watched Will's ruefulface, yet turning suddenly on Brown to curse him like a criminal forlaughing, too!

"Go and fetch that Mauser of yours, Brown, and give it to Mr. Yerkes inplace of what he's lost! Hurry, please!"

It was touch and go whether Brown would obey. But he happened to besober, and realized that he had committed tho unpermissible offense. Fred might laugh at Will all he chose; so might I; either of us mightlaugh Fred out of countenance; or they might howl derisively at me. But Brown, camp-fellow though he was, and not bad fellow though he was, was not of our inner-guard. He might laugh with, never at, especiallywhen catastrophe brought inner feelings to the surface. 

"Take the shot-gun if you care to, " Fred told him, as he passed Willthe rifle. "I'll unlock the chop-box presently, and let you have somewhisky!"

This last was the cruellest cut, but it did Brown good. When Fred kepthis promise and produced a whole bottle from the locked-up store Brownrefused to touch it, instead insulting him like a good man, cursinghim--whisky, whiskers, whims and all, using language that Fredgood-naturedly assured him was very unladylike. 

Before dawn the boys, peering through the gaps between the camp-fires, to distinguish lions if they could and give the alarm before anothercould jump in and do damage, swore they saw Schillingschen, rifle inhand, stalking among the shadows. Nothing could convince them they hadnot seen him. They said he stooped like a man in a dream--that bigbeard was matted, and his shirt torn--that he strode out of darknessinto darkness like a man whose mind was gone. We purposely laughed attheir story, to see if we could shake them in it. But they laughed atour incredulity. 

"My eyes are good eyes" answered Kazimoto. "What I see I see! Whyshould I invent lies?"

It was not pleasant to imagine Schillingschen, mind gone or not, withor without three cartridges and a rifle, prowling about our campawaiting opportunity to do murder. 

"Come to think of it, " said Fred, "we've no proof he hasn't a lot morethan three cartridges. It's hardly likely, but he might have cachedsome in reserve near where we found his camp pitched. More unlikelythings have happened. But the bally man must go to sleep some time. He seems to have been awake ever since he escaped. We'll be off atdawn, and either tire him out or leave him!"

"I'll bet he's got one or more of those donkeys, " I answered. "He'llnot be so easy to tire. "

"Suppose you and Will go and sleep, " suggested Fred. "Otherwise we'llall go crazy, and all get left behind!"

There did not remain much time for sleeping. The porters, being usedto the tents and their loads now, got away to a good start, headingstraight toward the frowning pile of Elgon that hove its great humpagainst a blue sky and domineered over the world to the northward. 

There were plenty of villages, well filled with timid spear-men andhard-working naked wives. Now that we had trade goods in plenty therewas no difficulty at all about making friends with them. They had twoobsessing fears: that it might not rain in proper season, and "thepeople" as they called themselves would "have too much hunger"; andthat the men from the mountain might come and take their babies. 

"Which men, from what mountain?"

"Bad men, from very high up on that mountain!" They pointed towardElgon, shuddered, and looked away. 

"Why should they take your babies?"

"They eat them!"

"What makes you think that?"

"We know it! They come! Once in so often they come and fight with us, and take away, and kill and eat our fat babies!"

All the inhabitants of all the villages agreed. None of them had everventured on the mountain; but all agreed that very bad black men cameraiding from the upper slopes at uncertain intervals. There was novariation of the tale. 

One thing puzzled us much more than the cannibal story. We heardshooting a long way off behind us to our right--two shots, followed bythe unmistakable ringing echo among growing trees. Had Schillingschendecided to desert us? And if so, how did he dare squander two of histhree cartridges at once--supposing he were not now mad, as our boys, and his, all vowed he was? His own ten men began to beg to beprotected from him, and the captured Baganda recommended in bestmissionary English that we seek the services of the first witch doctorwe could find. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE SONG OF THE ELEPHANTS

Who is as heavy as we, or as strong? Ho! but we trample the shambas down!Saw ye a swath where the trash lay long And tall trees flat like a harvest mown?That was the path we shore in haste (Judge, is it easy to find, and wide!)Ripping the branch and bough to waste Like rocks shot loose from a mountain side!Therefore hear us:

(All together, stamping steadily In time. )

 'Twas we who lonely echoes woke To copy the crash of the trees we broke! Goad, nor whip, nor wheel, nor yoke Shall humble the will of the Ivory Folk!

Once we were monarchs from sky to sky, Many were we and the men were few;Then we would go to the Place to die-- Elephant tombs* that the oldest knew, --Old as the trees when the prime is past, Lords unchallenged of vale and plain, Grazing aloof and alone at last To lie where the oldest had always lain. So we sing of it:

-----------------------------* The legendary place that every Ivory hunter hopes some day to stumbleon, where elephants are said to have gone away to die of old age, andwhere there should therefore be almost unimaginable wealth of ivory. The legend, itself as old as African speech, is probably due to therarity of remains of elephants thathave died a natural death. ------------------------------

(All together, swinging from side to side in time, and tossing trunks. )

 'Twas we who lonely echoes woke To copy the crash of the trees we broke! Goad, nor whip, nor wheel, nor yoke Shall govern the strength of the Ivory Folk!

Still we are monarchs! Our strength and weight Can flatten the huts of the frightened men!But the glory of smashing is lost of late, We raid less eagerly now than then, For pits are staked, and the traps are blind, The guns be many, the men be more;We fidget with pickets before and behind, Who snoozed in the noonday heat of yore. Yet, hear us sing:

(All together, ears up and trunks extended. )

 'Twas we who lonely echoes woke To copy the crash of the trees we broke! Goad, nor whip, nor wheel, nor yoke Have lessened the rage of the Ivory Folk!

Still we are monarchs of field and stream! None is as strong or as heavy as we!We scent--we swerve--we come--we scream-- And the men are as mud 'neath tusk and knee!But we go no more to the Place to die, For the blacks head off and the guns pursue;Bleaching our scattered rib-bones lie, And men be many, and we be few. Nevertheless:

(All together, trunks up-thrown, ears extended, and stamping in slowtime with the fore-feet. )

 'Twas we who lonely echoes woke To copy the crash of the trees we broke! Goad, nor whip, nor wheel, nor yoke Shall humble the pride of the Ivory Folk!

We had laughed at Fred's suggestion that Schillingschen might haveammunition cached away. Fred had sneered at my guess that the Germanmight ride donkey-back and not be so easily left behind. Now theprobability of both suggestions seemed to stiffen into reality. 

Day followed day, and Schillingschen, squandering cartridges not faraway behind us, always had more of them. He seemed, too, to loseinterest in keeping so extremely close to us, as we raced to get awayfrom him toward the mountain. If he was really crazy, as his tremblingboys maintained, then for a crazy man blazing at everything or nothinghe was shooting remarkably little. On the contrary, if he was sane, and shooting for the pot, be must have acquired a big following in somemysterious manner, or else have lost his marksmanship when Coutlassbruised his eyes. He fired each day, judging by the echo of the shots, about as many cartridges as we did, who had to feed a fairly longcolumn of men, and make presents of meat, in addition, to the chiefs ofvillages. It began to be a mystery how he carried so much ammunition, unless he had donkeys or porters. 

Soon we began to pass through a country where elephants bad been. There was ruin a hundred yards wide, where a herd of more than athousand of them must have swept in panic for fifteen miles. Therewere villages with roofs not yet re-thatched, whose inhabitants cameand begged us to take vengeance on the monsters, showing us theirtrampled enclosures, torn-down huts, and ruined plantations. Theyoffered to do whatever we told them in the way of taking part, andseveral times we marshaled the men of two or three villages together inan effort to get a line to windward and drive the herd our way. 

But each time, as the plan approached development, ringing shots frombehind us put the brutes to flight. It became uncanny--as ifSchillingschen in his new mad mood was able to divine exactly when hisnoise would work most harm. Our fool boys told the local natives thata madman was on our heels, and after that all offers of help ceased, even from those who had suffered most from the elephants. We began tobe regarded as mad ourselves. Efforts to get natives to go scouting towatch Schillingschen, and report to us, were met with point-blankrefusal. Rumor began to precede us, and from one village that hadsuffered more than usually badly from passing elephants the inhabitantsall fled at the first sign of Brown, leading our long single column. 

We followed the herd. Its track was wide, and easier than the windingnative foot-paths; and we were willing enough to jettison loads oftrade-goods if only we could replace them with tusks. The chase led uptoward Elgon, over the shoulder of an outlying spur, and upward towardthe mountain's eastern slopes. 

As long as we kept in the wake of the herd the going presented nodifficulties. We knew by the state of the tracks and the dung that theherd was never far ahead. Frequently we heard them crashing throughtrees in front of us. Yet whenever we came so close as to hope for aview, and a shot at a tusker, invariably a regular fusillade from theeastward to our rear would start the herd stampeding with a din likeall the avalanches. 

Streams by the dozen flowed down from the mountain's sides, their bankscrushed into bog where the elephants had crossed. Our donkeys grewused to being tied by the head in line and hauled across (for in commonwith all herds of donkeys, there were a few of them that swam readily, and many that either could not or refused). The flies in the wake ofthe elephants were worse than the tetse that haunted the shore ofNyanza. 

We had no trouble now from our boys. We could even let the Baganda'shands loose. They feared the cannibals of the higher slopes, but weremuch more afraid of the madman to our right rear. Our difficulty layin compelling them to keep a course sufficiently to eastward, and incalling a halt each day before men and animals were too utterly tiredout. Yet for all their hurry, we did not gain on the man who made themso afraid. 

Elephants, once thoroughly seared, will ran away forever. Our boysopenly praised the herd in front for its speed and stamina, hoping itwould continue on its course and oblige us to keep the madman with therifle at a safe distance to our rear. But it seemed he had an easierline than we, or else his frenzy gave him seven-league boots, for heeven began to gain on us, keeping along our right flank at a distanceof several miles, and driving us nearly mad in the frantic effort tokeep our column from turning and running away to the westward. If wehad relaxed our vigilance for a moment they would have broken line andfled. 

It was old volcanic country we were marching through, densely wooded, virgin forest for the most part, with earth so warm at times that itwas not easy to believe the crater of Elgon quite extinct. Even atthat low level we came on blow-holes nearly filled in with dirt andtrash, serving as fine caves for beasts of prey. We went into one forabout three hundred paces before it narrowed into nothing, and wouldhave camped in it but for the stink. It smelt like a place where theegg of original sin had turned rotten. Fred said that was sulphur, with the air of a man who would like it believed that he knew. 

At last the enemy must have made a night march, for he passed us, andthe following dawn we heard him shooting to our right in front. Thatmorning it was simply impossible to make the boys break camp. Theyswore that the ghost of Schillingschen had gone in league with theelephants to destroy us, and they preferred to be shot by us ratherthan murdered by witchcraft. 

Beyond doubt they would have bolted and left us had that camp not beenan almost perfect one, on rising ground with two great wings of rockalmost enclosing it, and a singing brook galloping through the midst. There was only one gap by which elephant or man could enter (unlessthey should fall from the sky), and they closed that by rolling rocksand dragging up trunks of trees. 

After a useless argument, during which we all lost our tempers and theywere reduced to the verge of panic, we decided to leave them there incharge of Brown and those porters, except Kazimoto, who had rifles. The armed men promised faithfully to die beside Brown in the only placeof exit rather than permit a man to pass out; and the rest all agreedit would be right to shoot them if they attempted to desert; but weleft the camp together--Fred, Will, I, and Kazimoto, with Will'spersonal servant and mine bringing up the rear--wondering whether weshould ever see any member or part of the outfit again. It felt likegoing to a funeral--or rather from it--more than likely Brown's. 

Kazimoto and the other two should have been carrying spare rifles; butBrown had refused to remain behind unless we left him all but the oneapiece we absolutely needed. We took the boys more from habit than forany use they were likely to be; and my boy and Will's bolted back tothe camp almost before we were out of sight of it, Kazimoto begging usto shoot them in the back for cowards. 

"Huh!" he grunted. "They are afraid of death. Teach them what deathis!"

We heard Brown challenge them as they approached the camp, and hoped hethrashed them soundly. But it turned out he did not. He himself hadgrown afraid; for the fear of a crowd is contagious, and spreadsnearly as readily from black to white as from white to black. He brokeopen a chop-box and consoled himself with whisky. 

Forcing our way through vegetation that crowded around a spur ofvolcanic rock, it soon became evident that the whole of the huge herdwas breakfasting not far in front of us, tearing off limbs of trees, and crashing about as if noise were the only object. We climbed andattempted to look down on them, only to discover that the part of theforest where we were consisted of a narrow belt, with a mile-wide openspace beyond it between us and the elephants. The wind was from themtoward us, but that did not wholly account for the amount of noise thatreached us. It was the fact that the herd was twice as big as weimagined. There were elephants in every direction. We could see andhear branches breaking with reports like cannon-fire. 

Kazimoto was as steady as an old soldier, a great grin spreading acrosshis ugly honest face, and his eyes alight with enthusiasm. This wasthe profession he had followed when he was Courtney's gun-bearer, andhe kept close to Fred with a handful of cartridges ready to pass tohim, whispering wise counsel. 

"Get close to them, bwana! Go close! Go close! Wind coming ourway--smell coming our way--noise coming our way--elephant very busyeating--no hurry! No long shooting! Go right up close!"

It was easier said than done. The elephants had spread broadcastthrough the forest, and there was no longer one well-defined swath tofollow, but a very great number of twisting narrow alleys throughelastic undergrowth between great unyielding trees. We had toseparate, to gain any advantage from our number, so that we emergedinto the open more than a hundred yards apart, with Fred at the farleft and Will in the center. Fred, with Kazimoto close at his heels, was more than fifty yards in front of either of us. 

And crossing that mile of open land was no simple business. It was amass of rocks and tree-roots, burned over in some swift-running forestfire and not yet reseeded, nor yet rotted down. There were windingways all across it by the dozen that the elephants, with their greaterheight and better woodcraft, could follow on the run, but great stumpsand rocks higher than a man's head (that from a distance had lookedlike level land) blocked all vision and made progress mostly guesswork. 

However, the latter half-mile was more like level going--I emerged frombetween two boulders, wondering whether I could ever find my way backagain, and envied Fred, who had found a better track and had the leadof me now by several hundred yards. Will was as far behind him as I, but had gone over more to the left, leaving me--feeling remarkablylonely--away in the rear to the right. 

Kazimoto followed Fred so closely, stooping low behind him, that thetwo looked like some strange four-legged beast. They were headed forthe forest in front of them at a great pace, increasing their lead fromWill, who, like me, was more or less winded. I stooped at a pool toscoop up water and splash my face and neck. When I looked up a momentlater I could see none of them. 

At that instant, when I could actually smell the great brutes crashingin the forest, unseen within a hundred yards of me, and would havegiven all I had or hoped for just to have a friend within speakingdistance, a shot rang out in the forest ahead, and rattled from tree totree like the echo of a skirmish. It was not from Fred's gun, orWill's. It was the phantom rifleman at work again. Schillingschen--Schillingschen's ghost--or whoever he was, he could nothave timed his fusillade better for our undoing. The first shot wasfollowed by six more in swift succession. And then chaos broke loose. 

Toward where I stood, from every angle to my front, the whole herdstampeded. No human being could have guessed their number. The forestawoke with a battle-din of falling trees and crashing undergrowth, split apart by the trumpeting of angry bulls and the screams of cowssummoning their young ones. The earth shook under the weight of theirtremendous rout. I heard Fred's rifle ring out three times far to myleft--then Will's a rifle nearer to me; and at that the herd swungtoward its own left, and the whole lot of them came full-pelt, blind, screaming, frantic, straight for me. 

There was no turning them now. None but the very farthest on the flankcould have turned, given sense enough left to do it. It was a flood ofmaddened monsters, crazed with fear, pent by their own numbers, forcedforward by the crowd behind, that invited me to dam them if I could!As they burst into the open, more shots rang out in the forest to lendtheir fury wings!

I glanced behind, to right and left, but there was no escape, I hadcome too far into the open to retreat! There were big rocks to therear to have scrambled on, but there was no time. There was one bigrock in front of me that divided their course about in halves; to passit they must open up, although they would almost surely close again. Itook my stand in line with that, as a man on trial for life takesrefuge behind an unestablishable alibi. 

They talk glibly about men's whole lives passing in review before themin the instant of a crisis. That may be. That was a crisis, and I sawelephants--elephants! I remembered some of what Courtney had toldus--some of the mad yarns Coutlass spun when liquor and the camp-firemade him boastful. All the advice I ever heard; all my previousimaginings of what I should do when such a time came, seemed to becondensed into one concrete demand--shoot, shoot, shoot, and keep onshooting! Yet my finger, bent around the trigger, absolutely would notact!

The oncoming gray wave of brutes split apart at the rock, as it mustdo, some of them screaming as they crashed into it breast on and werecrushed by the crowd behind. In the van of the right-hand wing, brushing the rock with his shoulder, charged an enormous bull withtusks so large that the heavier had weighed down his head to apermanent rakish angle. He caught sight of me--trumpeted like a sirenin the Channel fog--and came at me with raised ears and trunkoutstretched. I heard shooting to the left, and more shots from theforest, where the very active ghost or madman was keeping up a battleof his own. I felt the fear, that turns a man's very heart to ice, grip hold of me--felt as if nothing mattered--imagined the wholeuniverse a sea of charging elephants--accepted the inevitable--andsuddenly received my manhood back again! My forefinger acted! I firedpoint-blank down the throat of the charging bull. And it seemed tohave no more effect on him than a pea-shooter has on a railroad train!

I had left Schillingschen's heavy-bored elephant gun behind with Brown, considering it too cumbersome, and was using a Mauser with flat-nosedbullets. I fired four shots as fast as I could pump them from themagazine straight down the monster's hot red throat; and he continuedto come on as if I had not touched him, hard-pressed on either flank bybulls nearly as big as he. 

Perhaps the reason why my past history did not flash review was that mytime was not yet come! I continued to see elephant--nothing butelephant!--little bloodshot eyes aflame with frenzy--great tusksupthrown--a trunk upraised to brain me--huge flat feet that raged totread me down and knead me into purple mud! I kept the last shot witha coolness I believe was really numbness--then felt his hot breath likea blast on my face, and let him have it, straight down the throat again!

He screamed--stopped--quivered right over me--toppled from theknees--and fell like a landslide, pushed forward as he tumbled by theweight behind, and held from rolling sidewise by the living tide oneither flank. I tried to spring back, but his falling trunk struck meto earth. On either side of me a huge tusk drove into the ground, andI lay still between them, as safe as if in bed, while the herd crashedpast to right and left for so many minutes that it seemed all theuniverse was elephants--bulls, cows and calves all trumpeting in maddesire to get away--away--anywhere at all so be it was not where theythen were. 

Blood poured on me from the dead brute's throat--warm, slippery, stickystuff; but I lay still. I did not move when the crashing had all goneby, but lay looking up at the monster that had willed his worst and, seeking to slay, had saved me. Those are the moments when young mensummon all their calf-philosophy. I wondered what the difference wasbetween that brute and me, that I should be justified in slaying; thatI should be congratulated; that I should have been pitied, had thetouch-and-go reversed itself and he killed me. I knew there was adifference that had nothing to do with shape, or weight, or size, but Icould not give it a name or lay my finger on it. 

My reverie, or reaction, or whatever it was, was broken by Fred'svoice, flustered and out of breath, coming nearer at a great pace. 

"I tell you the poor chap's dead as a door-nail! He's under that greatbull, I tell you! He's simply been charged and flattened out! What adog I was--what a green-horn--what a careless, fat-headed tomfool toleave him alone like that! He was the least experienced of all of us, and we let him take the full brunt of a charging herd! We ought to behung, drawn and quartered! I shall never forgive myself! As for you, Will, it wasn't half as much your fault as mine! You were followingme. You expected me to give the orders, and I ought to have called ahalt away back there until we were all three in touch! I'll neverforgive myself--never!"

I crawled out then from between the tusks, and shook myself, much moredazed than I expected, and full of an unaccountable desire to vomit. 

"Damn your soul!" Fred fairly yelled at me. "What the hell d'you meanby startling me in that way! Why aren't you dead? Look out! What'sthe matter with the man? The poor chap's hurt--I knew he was!"

But that inexplicable desire to empty all I had inside me out on to thetrampled ground could no longer be resisted, that was all. Theaftermath of deadly fear is fear's corollary. Each bears fruit afterits kind. 

To my one tusker Will and Fred had brought down five and sixrespectively. That made twenty-three tusks, for one was an enormous"singleton. " We sent Kazimoto back alone to try to persuade some ofour porters to come and chop out the ivory with axes, bidding himpromise them all the hearts, and as many tail-hairs as they chose topull out to keep witches away with. Then, since my sickness passedpresently and left me steady on my legs, Fred made a proposal that wejumped at. 

"Let's go and lay Schillingschen's ghost! If that was Schillingschenshooting in the forest, we've a little account with him! If it wasn'tI want to know it! Come along!"

We advanced into the forest and toiled up-hill along the tracks thestampeding elephants had made, amid flies indescribable, and almostintolerable heat. The blood on my clothing made me a veritablefeeding-place of flies, until I threw most of it off, and then began tosuffer in addition from bites I could not feel before, and from thesharp points of beckoning undergrowth. My bare legs began to bleedfrom scratches, and the flies swooped anew on those, and clung as ifthey grew there. 

Will climbed a huge tree, at imminent risk of pythons and rottenbranches, and descried open country on our right front. We made forit, I walking last to take advantage of the others' wake, and aftermore than an hour of most prodigious effort we emerged on rolling rockycountry under a ledge that overhung a thousand feet sheer above us onthe side of Elgon. To our right was all green grass, sloping away fromus. 

There was a camp half a mile away pitched on the edge of the forest--awhite man's tent--a mule--meat hanging to dry in the wind under abranch--two tents for natives--and a pile of bags and boxes orderlyarranged. We could see a man sitting under a big tent awning. He wasreading, or writing, or something of that kind. He was certainly notSchillingschen. We hurried. Fred presently broke into a run; then, half-ashamed, checked himself and waited for me, who was beyond running. 

When we came quite close we saw that the man was playing chess all byhimself with a folding board open on his knees. He did not look up, although by that time he surely should have heard us. Fred began towalk quietly, signaling to the camp hangers-on to say nothing. Wefollowed him silently in Indian file. As he came near the awning Fredtip-toed, and I felt like giggling, or yelling--like doing anythingridiculous. 

He who played chess yawned suddenly, and closed the chess-board with asnap. He got up lazily, smiled, stretched himself like a greatgood-looking cat, faced Fred, and laughed outright. 

"Glad to see you all! Did you get many elephants?" he asked. 

"Monty, you old pirate--I knew it was you!" said Fred, holding a handout. 

Monty took it, and forced him into the chair he had just vacated. 

"You damned old liar!" he said, nodding approvingly. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THEY TOIL NOT, NEITHER DO THEY SPIN

Now for opulence and place And the increment unearned We will thieve and stab and cover it with perjury, Contemptuous of grace And the lesson never learned That the Rules are not amenable to surgery. We will steal a neighbor's tools In the quest for easy cash, Aye, jump his claim and burrow to the heart of it, But the innocents and fools Get all the goods, and we the trash, And that's the most exasperating part of it!

Nobody in camp slept that night. When the tusks had been chopped out, and our camp carried across and pitched beside Monty's--ivoryweighed--lion-proof boma built--and elephant-heart portioned out to themen, who gorged themselves on it in order that their own hearts mightgrow great and strong; when all the myriad matters had been seen tothat make camping in the tropics such a business, then there were talesto be told. We demanded Monty's first; he ours; and because his waslikely to be much the shortest we won that argument. 

"Wait one minute, though, " he insisted. "Before I begin, have you anynotion who a man with a beard could be--bruised face-broken frontteeth--Mauser rifle--big dark beard cut shovel-shape--enormouslypowerful by the look of his shoulders and arms? I came on him three, no, four days' march back. "

"Schillingschen!" we exclaimed with one voice. 

"Show me Schillingschen!" echoed Brown, who was very drunk by thattime, nearly ready to be put to bed. "Show me Schillingschen, an' I'llshow you a corpse!"

"He's right, " nodded Monty. "The man's dead. Blew his brains out withhis last cartridge. Looked to me to have lost himself. Slept intrees, I should say. Clothing all torn. Hadn't been dead long whensome of my boys came on him and drove away the jackals. Had he been ina fight, do you know?"

But we would not tell him that tale until we had his own. 

"Mine's short and simple, " he began. "Some ruffians boarded my ship atSuez, who made such eyes at me, and so obviously intended to do medamage at the first opportunity, that I talked it over with the captain(giving him a hint or two of the possible reason) and he agreed to slipme off secretly at Ismailia. It was easy--middle of the night, youknow--had the doctor isolate the ruffians on the starboard side whilethe ship anchored--some cooked-up excuse about quarantine--and kept 'emout of sight of what was happening until the ship went on again. Verysimple. "

"Go on, Didums--we'll be all night talking--what did you do with theKing of Belgium?" Fred demanded. 

"Nothing. Didn't go near the King of Belgium. I was quarantined atIsmailia on wholly imaginary grounds for fourteen days; and who shouldcome smiling into the same lazaretto on the last day but FrederickCourtney--a very old friend of mine!"

"He was to go to Somaliland, " I said. 

"So he told me. He's on his way there now. Decided for reasons of hisown to enter the country by way of Abyssinia. Told me of the advicehe'd given you fellows, and assured me he'd seen King Leopold himselfon the very matter scarcely a year before. Of course, he said, I mightsucceed where he failed, using influence and all that sort of thing, but he assured me Leopold was hard to deal with, and difficult to tiedown. His advice was, go back to Elgon, and hunt for the stuff there. "

"That's what he kept advising us, " said Will. "But why should he giveaway his information free? And if it's good, where did he get it?"

"Courtney's no dog in the manger, " Monty answered. "He told me of thisman Schillingschen. Said he had sent in a report about him to the HomeGovernment, but couldn't for the life of him get documentary evidencewith which to back up his charges. "

Will whistled, and drew out the diary he had rescued from the tin box. Fred nodded. Will threw it to Monty, who caught it. 

"He told me this Schillingschen had searched the whole country over forthe stuff--had it straight from Schillingschen's boys--I dare say youknow how Courtney can make a native tell him all he knows. Schillingschen, he said, had eliminated pretty nearly all the likelyplaces until Mount Elgon was about all there is left. Courtney said, too, that there were always so many thousands of elephants near Elgonthat Tippoo Tib probably gathered a harvest there. We discussedprobabilities, and agreed it wasn't likely he would carry the stuff farin order to hide it. It seemed likely to both of us, too, that if thequantity the old man hid was anything like what rumor says, then therewere probably half a dozen hiding-places, not one. Most of the stuffmay be in the Congo Free State, and we'll do well to leave that toLeopold of Belgium and his pet concessionaires. Some of it may be nearhere. I stayed in the lazaretto an extra day with Courtney, talking itover. One other thing he remembered to tell me was that Schillingschenhad hunted high and low for Tippoo Tib's old servants, and had finallymanaged to have the relatives of that man Hassan--I remember, Fred, youcalled him Johnson in Zanzibar--thrown in jail in German East for somealleged offense or other. "

Monty stopped to scrape out a faithful pipe, fill it, press downtobacco with a practised thumb, and reach toward the campfire for aburning brand. Then he smoked for two minutes reflectively. 

"I offered Courtney a share should we find the stuff. Knew you fellowswould agree. " Pause. "Courtney wouldn't hear of it. " Pause. "Saidgood-by to him, and took a coastwise trading steamer back to Mombasa. Delightful trip--put in everywhere--saw everything. Saw a lot of theGalla--fine tribe, the Galla. "

"Suppose you cut the travelogue stuff until later on!" suggested Will. 

"Landed at Mombasa, and learned the first day that you fellows hadmanaged to make more enemies than friends. Put in a number of days onheavy social labor--lingered at the club--drank too much of theirinfernal gin-and-black-pepper appetizer--but made you fellows right, Ithink. "

"We're not interested in the slumming. Go on and tell us what youdid!" urged Fred. 

"That is what I did--and undid. I made friends. Soon I had all theother junior officials in a state of mind to help me if they could. Then I began to inquire for Hassan. They drew the dragnet tight, anddiscovered him at Nairobi! A young assistant district superintendentof police, who will rise in the service, I hope, before long, discovered a woman--who was jealous of a man--who was just then makinglove to the dusky damsel particularly favored by Hassan; and in thatroundabout way we discovered that Hassan intended to take a trip verysoon toward Mount Elgon, where, if you please, he was to take part inProfessor Schillingschen's ethnological studies. On condition that heheld his tongue until I gave him leave to talk, I promised that youngpoliceman--to put him en rapport with Schillingschen's doings asswiftly as may be. Then I returned to Mombasa, and got your codeletter saying you would head this way. It all fitted in like a game ofchess. "

"How in the world did you get that letter so soon?" demanded Fred. "The missionary chap was to mail it in Ujiji, via Salisbury, Rhodesia. "

"I suppose he simply didn't do that, that's all, " Monty answered. "Thebank manager told me he received it in the mission mail bag--fromUjiji, yes, but by way of Muanza, Tabora, and Dar es Salaam. It reachedme in the nick of time. I must have been marching nearly parallel withyou chaps for about a week!"

"If coincidence of evidence means anything, " said Will "we're all on ared-hot scent! That Baganda we have in our outfit is our prisoner. One of Schillingschen's pet pimps. He swears Hassan--or rather someold native whose name he doesn't know--was to meet Schillingschen inthese parts and lead him to where he actually helped bury the ivory, years ago!"

"We may have difficulty finding him, " said I. "Mount Elgon's big!"

"What about Brown?" asked Monty. "I hope you haven't made him partner? I agree, of course, if you have, but I hope not!"

"Nothing doing!"

"No. Why should we?"

"Brown's all right, but a present ought to satisfy him. "

We began to tell Monty about Brown's cattle that Coutlass stole, andthe Masai looted from Coutlass and us. 

"Were they branded?" asked Monty. 

"Branded and hoof- and ear-marked, " said I. 

"Then they ought to be traceable, even among the huge herds the Masaihave. I think I've influence enough by this time with this governmentto have those cattle traced and returned to Brown. "

"They're his only love!" said I. "Do that for him, and he'll neverwait to receive a present!"

Dawn found us still recounting our adventures and Monty alternatelylaughing and frowning. 

"I regret Coutlass" he said, shaking the ashes from his pipe at lastwhen Kazimoto brought our breakfast. "I regretted having to throw himout of the hotel in Zanzibar. I wish he could have escaped with hislife--a picturesque scoundrel if ever there was one! I'd rather berobbed by him than flattered by ten Schillingschens or Lady SaffrenWaldons. I suppose if I'd been with you I'd have killed him. It'swell I wasn't. I might have regretted it all my days!"

We buried our newly won ivory under a tree, locating the spot exactlywith the aid of Monty's compass, and broke camp, starting sleepless upthe mountain. As Monty said:

"No use meandering around the mountain. Hassan might be higher up orlower down. If he is there you may depend on it he's tired of waiting. He's looking for a safari. Let's climb where we can be seen frommiles away. "

So climb we did, thousand after thousand feet, until the night air grewso cold that the porters' teeth chattered and they threatened to desertus. They grew afraid, too, remembering the tales the villagers hadtold them down below. 

"Wow! You are not fat babies!" Kazimoto told them. "Who would eatsuch stringy meat as you?"

We came to caves that none of the men dared enter--vast, gloomy tunnelsinto the mountain through which the chill wind whistled like a dirge. Yet the caverns were warmer than the wind, and not bad camping-placesif we could have persuaded the boys to take advantage of them. 

The earth, too, all over the mountain and the range to eastward of itwas warm in spite of the wind. In places there were warm springsbubbling from the rock, and at night and early morning a blanket ofwhite mist that was remarkably like steam covered everything. It was aland of thunderless lightning--lightning from a clear sky, flashinghere and there without warning or excuse. On the high slopes there waslittle or no game, and no signs whatever of inhabitants, until late oneafternoon the porters shouted, and we saw an old man racing toward usalong the top of a ridge. 

He held his hands out, and shouted as he ran--a round-faced, big-bellied man, although not nearly so fat as when we saw him last;unclean, unkempt, in tattered shirt and crushed-in fez--a man with onedesire expressed all over him--to see, and touch, and talk with othermen. He ran and threw himself at Monty's feet, clasped his legs, andblubbered. 

"Bwana! Oh, bwana! Oh, bwana!"

"Get up, Johnson!" Fred took him by the arm and raised him. "Tell uswhat's the matter. "

"Men who eat men! Men who eat men! I had three porters to carry mytent and food. Now I have none. They have eaten them! Now they huntme!"

"Well, you're safe, " said Monty. "Calm yourself. "

"But you are not Bwana Schillingschen! I am here to wait for him. Have you seen him? Where is he?"

Fred answered him. "Dead!"

Hassan threw himself on the ground again at Monty's feet. 

"Oh, what shall I do?" he blubbered. "I am an old man. Who shall takemy people out of jail? Who shall go to Dar es Salaam and make Germansgive them up?"

"If you're willing to show us what you intended to showSchillingschen, " said Monty, "I'll do what I can for your relations. "

"What can you do? Oh, what can you do? No man but a German can makethese Germans cease from punishing!"

Monty beckoned to the Baganda who had once done Schillingschen's dirtywork. 

"D'you see this man? This is a German spy. The German will be willingto hand over your relations in exchange for a promise not to make afuss about this man. Wait a minute, though! Are your relationscriminals?"

"No, bwana! No, bwana! My relations honorable folk! Formerly livingin Zanzibar--going to Bagamoyo to serve in German family by invitationof person attached to German Consulate--no sooner landed than thrown injail on charges they know nothing whatever about. Then Schillingschenhe finding me, and say to me, 'You show where is that Tippoo Tib'sivory, and your relations shall go free!' And Tippoo Tib, he say tome, 'You take first step to show any man where is that ivory, and youshall be fed to white ants by my faithful people!' And Schillingschenhe catch two of them faithful people, and feed 'em to white ants whennobody looking that way! Schillingschen terrible! Tippoo Tibterrible! What shall do? Tippoo Tib, he one time making me go longtrip with Bwana Coutlass, very bad Greek. Bwana Coutlass wantingivory--me pretending showing him--leading him wrong way. Coutlass verybad man, beating me ngumu sana. * All the same, me more afraid ofTippoo Tib and Bwana Schillingschen. Not long ago Tippoo Tib sendingme with Bwana Coutlass second time, making bad threats against me if Inot lead him wrong. Then Schillingschen he send for me and makingworse threats! Oh, what shall do! Oh, what shall do!" [* Ngumu sana, very severely. ]

"You shall show us where that ivory is!" Monty answered him. "Stopblubbering! Get up! Look here! See this! (Get me that diary, Will. ) If the Germans won't release your relations from jail on account ofthis Baganda, this is a written book that will make them do it! Inthis book are the names of men who have broken treaties and the law ofnations. When the Germans know the British Government in London hasthis book under lock and key, they will think it a little thing torelease your relations for the sake of avoiding trouble!"

"Promise me, bwana! You promise me!"

"I promise I will do my best for you. "

"Word of an Englishman--promise!"

"Word Of an Englishman--I promise to do my best!"

That was a proud enough moment on the shoulder of a mountain, withwilderness in every direction farther than the highest eagle in the airabove could see, to have that helpless, hopeless ex-slave, part Arab, part machenzie, put his whole stock-in-trade--his secret--all he had onearth to bargain with for those he loved--in the balance on the promiseof an Englishman. It was a tribute to a race that has had its share, no doubt, of bad men, but has won dominion over half the earth andpretty much all the sea by keeping faith with men who could not by anymeans compel good faith. 

"Then I tell!" said Hassan. "Then I show!"

But now a new fear seized him, and he clung to Monty, trembling andjabbering. 

"The men who eat men! The men who eat men!"

"Pah! Cannibals!" sneered Fred. "They're always cowards!"

"Tippoo Tib, he afraid of nothing--nobody! He is hiding the ivorywhere men who eat men can guard it and none dare come!"

"Lead on, McDuff!" Fred grinned, shouldering his rifle. 

All of us except Monty had beards by that time that fluttered in thewind, and looked desperate enough for any venture. Considering therifles and our uncouth appearance, Hassan took heart of grace. Heinsisted on an armed guard to walk on either side of him, and nearlydrove Kazimoto frantic by ducking behind rocks at intervals, imagininghe saw an enemy; but he did not refuse any longer to show the way. 

It seemed that in expectation of Schillingschen's early arrival he hadcamped within a mile of the place where the stuff was hidden, takingunreasoning courage from the bare fact of having the redoubtableSchillingschen for friend. But the cannibals (who must have been ahungry folk, for there were no plantations, and almost no animals onall those upper slopes) had pounced on his three lean porters, missinghimself by a hair's breadth. 

In hiding, he had watched his three men killed, toasted before a firein a cavern-mouth, and eaten. Then he had run for his life, followingthe shoulder of the mountain in the hope of meeting Schillingschen, munching uncooked corn he had in a little bag, hiding and running atintervals for a day and a night until he chanced on us. For an old manalmost sick with fear he was astonishingly little affected by theadventure. 

We took longer over the course than he had done, because he wanted tofind cannibals, and teach them, maybe, a needed lesson. Fred's theorywas that we should surprise them and pen them into a cavern, discovering some means of talking with them when hunger brought themout to surrender and cringe. 

So we threw out a line of scouts, and pounced on cave-mouths suddenly, entering great tunnels and following the course of them in ages-oldlava until sometimes we thought ourselves lost in the gloom and spenthours finding the way out again. 

Time and again we found bones--bones of wild animals, and of birds, andof fish; now and then bones that perhaps had been monkeys, but thatlooked too suspiciously like those of the fat babies mothers mournedfor in the villages below for the benefit of the doubt to be concededwithout something more or less resembling proof. But never a humanbeing did we see until we rounded the northeastern hump of the mountainin a bitter wind, and spied half a hundred naked men and women, thinnerthan wraiths, who scampered off at sight of us and volleyed ridiculousarrows from a cave-mouth. The arrows fell about midway between us andthem, but threw Hassan into a paroxysm of fear, out of which it wasdifficult to shake him. 

"Those are the people who ate my men! That is the cavern where TippooTib hid the ivory! That is where my men's bones are! See--they havetorn my tent for clothing for their naked women!"

We put Hassan under double guard for fear lest he bolt again and leaveus. And all that day, and all the next we hunted for cannibals throughmazy caverns that seemed to extend into the mountain's very womb. There were times when the stench was so horrible we nearly fainted. Westumbled on men's bones. We collided with sharp projections in thegloom--fell down holes that might have been bottomless for aught weknew in advance--and scrambled over ledges that in places were smoothwith the wear of feet for ages. Everlastingly to right, or left of us, or up above, or down below we could hear the inhabitants scamperingaway. Now and then an arrow would flitter between us; but theirsupply of ammunition seemed very scanty. 

At night we camped in the cavern mouth to cut off all escape, andresumed the hunt at dawn. But the caverns were hot--hotter by contrastwith the biting winds outside; and when in the afternoon of the secondday we all came out to breathe and cool off the running sweat, we sawthe whole tribe--scarcely more than fifty of them--emerge from anopening above, whose existence we had not guessed, and go scamperingaway along a ledge like monkeys. Some of them stopped to throw stonesat us--impotent, aimless stones that fell half-way; and Fred sentthree bullets after them, chipping bits from the ledge, after whichthey showed us a turn of speed that was simply incredible, and vanished. 

"Now for the great disillusionment!" laughed Will. "Hassan! Goforward, and show us where that hoard of ivory ought ta be!"

We all expected disillusionment. Brown, who was under no delusion asto his share in the venture, scoffed openly at the idea of findinganything buried, in a land where every living "crittur, " as he put it, was a thief from birth. But Hassan led on in, fearless now that thecannibals were gone, and positive as if he led into his own house andwould show his house-hold treasures. 

He stopped before a black-mouthed chasm, two or three hundred yardsalong the smallest subdivision of the cavern, and called for lights anda rope. We lit lanterns, and he showed us men's bones lying everywherein grisly confusion. 

"Tippoo Tib his men!" he remarked. "They throwing ivory in here, thenbyumby men who eat men kill and eat them. I alone living to tell!Plenty men who eat men in those days--all mountains full of them!"

He tied a lantern to a rope and lowered it down what looked like an oldvent-hole in the lava. But the little light was lost in the enormousblackness, and we could see nothing. 

"Send a man down!" he counseled. 

We leaned over the edge and sniffed. There was a faint smell of whatmight be sulphur, but not enough to hurt. 

"Who'll go?" asked Monty, and I thought he was going to volunteerhimself. 

"I go down!" announced Kazimoto cheerfully, and promptly proceeded todivest himself of every stitch of clothing. 

We made our stoutest line fast under his arm-pits, gave him a lanternand lowered him over the edge. For fifty or sixty feet he descendedsteadily, swinging the lantern and walking downward, held almosthorizontally by the slowly paid-out rope. Then he stopped, and weheard him whistling. 

"What do you see?" we called down. 

"Pembe!" (Ivory. )

"Much of it?"

"Teli!" (Too much!) "Oh, teli, teli! Teli, teli, teli, TELI!"

His voice ended with the very high-pitched note that natives use whenthey want to multiply superlatives. Then he whistled again. Next hecalled very excitedly. 

"Very bad smell here, bwana! Pull me out quickly!"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

L'ENVOI

The dry death-rattle of the streetSAsserts a joyless goal--Re-echoed clang where traffic meets, And drab monotony repeatsThe hour-encumbered role. Tinsel and glare, twin tawdry shamsOutshine the evening starWhere puppet-show and printed lie, Victim and trapper and trap, denyOld truths that always are. So fare ye, fare ye well, old roofs!The syren warns the shore, The flowing tide sings oversideOf far-off beaches where abideThe joys ye know no more!The salt sea spray shall kiss our lips--Kiss clean from the fumes that were, And gulls shall herald waking daysWith news of far-seen water-waysAll warm, and passing fair. They've cast the shore-lines loose at lastAnd coiled the wet hemp down--Cut picket-ropes of Kedar's tents, Of time-clock task and square-foot rents!Good luck to you, old town!Oh, Africa is calling backAlluringly and lowAnd few they be who hear the voice, But they obey--Lot's wife's the choice, And we must surely go!So fare ye, fare ye well, old roofs!The stars and clouds and treesIn place of you! The heaped thorn fire--Delight for the town's two-edged desire--For thrice-breathed breath the breeze!For rumble of wheels the lion's roar, Glad green for trodden brownFor potted plant and measured lawnThe view of the velvet veld at dawn!Good-by to you, old town!

If all is well that ends well, and only that is well, then this storyfails at the finish, for we never caught the cannibals, so never taughtthem the lesson in housekeeping and economics that they needed. Butthere is no other shortcoming to record. 

It is no business of any one's what terms we made in the end with theProtectorate Government; but thanks to Monty's tact and influence, andto their sense of fair play, we were treated generously. And if, whenthe world war at last broke out and the Germans undertook to put inpractise the treachery they had so long planned, there was a secretfund of hugely welcome money at the disposal of the out-numbereddefenders of British East, its source will no doubt be accounted for, as well as its expenditures, to the proper people, by the properpeople, at the proper time and place. 

But those who are curious, and are adept at unraveling statistics mightlearn more than a little by studying the export figures relating toivory during the years that preceded the war. They say statisticsnever lie; but those who write them now and then do, and it may bethat camouflage was understood and went by another name before thegreat war made the art notorious and popular. 

Some of the ivory in that huge hole was ruined by the heat that stilllives in Elgon's womb. Some of it was splintered by the fall whenyoked slaves tossed it in. Rats had gnawed some of it, to get at thesoft sweet core. 

But the men who keep the keys of the bursting ivory vaults by Londondocks could tell how much of it was good, and what huge stores of itreached them. For some strange reason they are not a very talkativebreed of men. 

We did not haul the ivory out ourselves. That would have been toopublic a proceeding. But any one who attempted during the years thatfollowed nineteen hundred to make a trip to Elgon can truthfully informwhoever cares to know, how jealously and wakefully the ProtectorateGovernment guarded those lonely trails. And there are folk who saw thehundred-man safaris that came down from that way every week or so, carrying old ivory, said to be acquired in the way of trade. But thatis really all government business, and looks impertinent in print. 

We did not make enough money to establish Monty in the homes of hisancestors at Montdidier Towers and Kirkudbrightshire Castle; for thatwould have been an unbelievable amount; it takes more than mereaffluence to keep up an earldom in the proper style. But we all gotrich. 

Brown received his cattle back after a long wait, as well as a presentof money that set him up handsomely for life. And certain dissatisfiedMasai were fined so many cows and sheep for raiding across the borderthat they talked of migrating out of spite to German East--but did notdo it. 

A youthful red-headed assistant district superintendent of police wasunaccountably alert enough to round up and bring into court more than adozen natives who had preached sedition. And, being lucky enough tosecure convictions in every case, he was promoted. The last I heard ofhim he was fighting in the very heart of German East in command of awhole brigade. So it is advantageous sometimes to do favors for straynoblemen, provided you are clever enough, and man enough to make goodwhen the favors are repaid. 

And while on the subject of favors, the four homesick islanders who hadlent us their canoes and came with us all that journey, were sent backto their island followed by a launch towing two barges full ofcorn--free, gratis, and for nothing--"burre tu, " as the natives say, meaning that the English are certainly crazy and giving away foodwithout a pull-back to it simply and solely because "the people" havetoo much nja. Nja is the nastiest word in all those languages. Itmeans the one thing everybody dreads--the thing that only the Englishseem to know charms against--want--emptiness--HUNGER. 

At our expense, but by the favor of the government, there went to thatisland food enough in boxes and strong sacks--and seeds, treatedagainst insects--and tools with which the wives could chop the soil up(for you can't expect the owner of a wife to work) to keep that islandand its friendly folk from hunger for many a day. 

THE END