The Ivory Trail

  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 come In 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 enhance By 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 he 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 he 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 thehill, 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 had 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 he 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 wh
ile, 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. br />
  "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 had 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 con
fidence, 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 he 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 fromweakness 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 he 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 fool 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!" he 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 was
playing 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!"