The Rogue Elephant Part 12

This they managed to pry open with a knife, and the explorer pulled out a tiny, many-folded map of onion-skin paper. The tracings were made in a brown ink, with marks that meant nothing to the boys.

"Arabic," explained Schoverling briefly. "Evidently it was supplied to Mowbray by Selim ben Amoud. From what I can make out, it is a plan of the chain of lakes Mowbray mentions. Here is one off by itself to the south, named Quilqua. Well, this does us no good. Let's get down to cases."

"One thing is sure," said Charlie as the explorer paused. "That is, that our march will lie just about due north."

"Yes. Now, Mowbray speaks of an island with a slaver's stronghold. That would account for the desolated country--that and the rogue elephant.

Probably some Arab settled down there years ago and ran off slaves until he and all his men were swept out in one of the terrible and mysterious plagues that sometimes sweep this country. That would explain the rumors among the natives. Probably Selim heard the story and fancied the place might be worth finding, so went into partners.h.i.+p with Mowbray. The latter evidently found a good store of ivory planted away."

"I guess you've doped it out," said Charlie. "How long will we stay here, General?"

"Two days. That will give the horses and cattle a good rest. The three of us ought to bring in a lot of game, and we'll make some real northwoods pemmican to take us on. First, let's see if the Masai will go with us."

The explorer called to Bakari and the Masai leader came over grinning.

Slowly they explained what lay before them, the terrors of the mysterious lake, and the desert journey, and asked if Bakari and ten of his men would accompany them. The unabashed warrior grinned.

"Me go! Him men go, very fierce. No 'fraid."

Satisfied that he had understood, Schoverling dismissed him, and turned to the boys.

"Pemmican for ten Masai and Bakari, us four, and three gun-bearers. The rest will stay here. We'll take one wagon and six oxen; they can go for two or three days without any water easily enough. We have one thing to do before we go on the hunt, though."

What this duty was all knew well enough. The body of Mowbray was brought out and sewed in the canvas of a spare tent; a small American flag belonging to Schoverling was laid over him, and he was placed in one of the graves. The faithful Zahir-ed-din was laid in the other. As the story was told the Indians, they waited till von Hofe had recited the Lord's Prayer over Mowbray, then Gholab Singh, Mohammedan like the other Gurkhas, delivered a short prayer from the Koran over the Arab, and the graves were filled in.

Charlie, Jack and the General scoured the plain that afternoon, bringing in three eland and sending the Masai out after two zebra. On their return they found that von Hofe had been at work, for over each grave stood a cross of wood, rudely carved with the name of him beneath. Oddly enough, the Mohammedans made no objection to the cross being placed over the Arab.

"He was a good man," said the big Teuton softly. "It matters not that he believed in Allah, for worse Christians I haf met, yes."

During the next day the game was cut up and smoked by Jack and Charlie, the explorer and Guru bringing in enough fresh meat to keep them for two or three days ahead. That night six of the rested oxen were inspanned to one of the wagons, loaded with water-casks and what was left of their yams and bananas. The spare Gurkha was left with his own rifle, an old Snider, to provide meat for the little camp, and as the moon rose the expedition pushed out across the river to the north--in search of Lake Quilqua and the Rogue Elephant.

CHAPTER XI

THE DESERT TREK

The rest, short as it had been, had worked wonders for the cattle. They were as fresh and sleek as ever, and the lightly loaded wagon was a small burden to them. At the last moment Schoverling had flung in the six traps.

"I have a notion," was all he would reply to the questions of the boys.

He and the boys and von Hofe rode first, the Masai tramping along to a swinging chant beside the wagon, and the three gun-bearers bringing up the rear. The oxen did not require any driving, as they followed the leaders unhesitatingly and patiently.

"I guess we've got our work cut out for us," said Charlie as the long, rolling white-dusted plain opened out before them in the moonlight. He and Jack rode together, as usual.

"Seems weird," replied Jack, "to think o' Mowbray coming across here on a camel only to die, an' us going back on the same trail. Wonder how that camel died in five days?"

"I don't know. He said it was unhurt. Prob'ly the Arab pushed it day and night at full speed. Even a camel would go down under that."

As they advanced, the dust rose in clouds about them, hanging low and choking the Indians behind until they had to come forward. Once or twice the barking call of a zebra sounded from the distance, and toward morning the distant growl of a lion, but no other signs of life came to them.

The boys had been busy all day, and they were tired enough to doze off in the saddle as they went forward, the white dust covering them all with a thick coating. Hour after hour they plodded on, at intervals wiping out the nostrils of the horses and cattle with a wet cloth by way of refreshment. Von Hofe chatted intermittently with Schoverling, who guided the march by compa.s.s, but the boys were too weary for talk.

At five o'clock they halted on the edge of a dry water-course. They had not omitted to fetch along a good supply of fodder for the cattle, which was loaded in the wagon to the very top of the tilt. The horses were given a few swallows of water each, the Masai dined on roast meat about their fires, while the four explorers and the Indians made an excellent repast on cold meat and biscuits with tea. Biscuits were Charlie's specialty, and before the start he had made a good supply, as their flour was running low.

For three hours they rested here, Schoverling and Jack keeping watch in turn. At the next halt von Hofe and Charlie would stand guard, then the three Indians. At eight the cattle were inspanned, and they plodded onward until noon, hot and choked with dust. No complaint came from the Masai, and here the second meal of the day was eaten.

The boys had thought that first march across that almost deserted gra.s.s plain was hard, but this gave them an inkling of the meaning of an African trek. They slept with heads on their saddles, the single tent they had brought along shading them somewhat. The Indians and a few Masai slept on the fodder beneath the hood of the wagon, the rest stretched out under the wagon itself.

At three they inspanned and went on again until seven, when another two hours' rest and the evening meal took place. Thus they traveled sixteen hours and rested eight, the men and cattle both getting on more easily at night than in the blazing sun.

That first afternoon nothing much occurred to interest them. Out on the dry desert scoured a few ostriches, at which the boys took distant shots but without result. In the evening they saw two giraffes lumbering across the horizon.

"Wish we had a few yoke of those fellows," said the explorer. "They can go for months without water, and seem to pick up a living from the dead gra.s.s."

"I thought camels were the only beasts who could live on air?" said Charlie in surprise. "Do you mean that giraffes absolutely require no water?"

"That is it," answered von Hofe. "It is an unexplained mystery, my friend. The giraffe, he carries no water-tank inside like the camel, yet he sweats and lives. How, is not known."

Charlie and Jack looked after the Masai, but found them dust-grimed and cheerful. The leader, Bakari, had evidently picked out the best men--all stalwart, sinewy warriors who won the respect of the boys in that terrible march by their powers of endurance and unfailing good humor.

"I don't see how they can plug along on foot that way," volunteered Jack on the third day. "By jiminy, two days of it would 'bout put me in hospital! Say, Chuck, ain't these moccasins great? If we had boots now we'd be sorry."

"You bet," nodded Charlie. "They keep the dust out pretty well. The doctor has to empty out a pound o' dust every hour. No wonder his feet are swollen up!"

Indeed, that night von Hofe made application for a pair of the spare moccasins. The dry, irritating dust made no entrance through the thick moosehide, and although the moccasins were undeniably hot, they were much better than hunting-boots. He freely admitted that in no instance had Schoverling's prophecies and ideas fallen down, and thereafter wore his moccasins until the end of the trip.

The dry, brown gra.s.s of those plains was almost hidden by the dust, but when their fodder gave out, on the fifth day, the oxen seemed to take it willingly enough. Day after day the march kept up without intermission, and fortunately the six-oxen suffered no loss. They were used to such treks, and the unremitting care of the boys kept them in good shape.

On the seventh day the supply of meat, large as it had been, began to show signs of giving out. The Masai had accepted the smoked meat willingly enough, but neither the explorer nor the boys had counted on their enormous appet.i.tes. As it would not do to halt the march, the wagon was left in charge of von Hofe, while the General, the boys, and the three gun-bearers cantered out after whatever game they could find.

So far the horses had stood the strain well, being seasoned, wiry little beasts. Schoverling rode between the boys.

"I didn't want to tell the doctor," he volunteered in a low tone, when they were a good half-mile from the wagon, "and don't let on before the Indians; but we're going to be in bad unless we get across pretty soon.

There are only two casks of water left. I'm afraid the Masai have been tapping them at night."

"Jumping sandhills!" exclaimed Charlie, staring in dismay. "Why, we have to use at least half a cask a day, only giving the horses and cattle a few swallows, and us too! I s'pose we'll cut out the cattle?"

"Have to," nodded the explorer. "I hate to do it, but we can't return now. I'd like to take a gun-b.u.t.t to those Masai!"

"You can't blame them," put in Jack. "They've got the hardest end to bear up, Gen'ral. We've only allowed them about a pint a day each, same as us, when they've been hiking steady. It's hard lines on them, take it from me."

"We can't help that, Jack," Schoverling returned. "There's no use punis.h.i.+ng them, of course, for they may be valuable later on. But when you're on watch, just take a look under the wagon now and then. If you find anyone at the water-casks, take the cattle-whip to him. That water means life to all of us--and _we come first_!"

The boys fell silent. The danger was brought home to them, as the explorer intended, and they realized the grim law of the white man in savage places--that whatever happened, whoever perished, he must survive. It is not a merciful law; Schoverling was not one of the generous-hearted kind who treat the native as an equal at such times.

He was an average, self-preserving Caucasian, who was only merciless when his own life hung in the balance. The boys had been trained in the same school, and fully realized the force of his words.

"The Masai are holding up finely," he went on, "but we'll have to watch them close. At any minute they may get sick of things and try to rush us. That means trouble, which I hope will not come."

Charlie joined him silently in that hope, though from the behavior of the natives he could hardly believe that they would turn on the whites.