Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 174: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

164 condition. The forest appeared to over- hear his thoughts and to laugh in rustling, weeping, insidious chuckles. Against his will he pulled out his watch repeatedly to peer at it in the gloom. Then he tore on to stop a moment to listen for Yamagulu’s cry, only to hear the forest tuning up for the nocturnal anthem, The gloom was so dense now that he could not see ahead of him. The canopied roof seemed writhing with innumerable arms, groping down—down. He crashed hastily through a tangle of creepers which seemed to be trying to strangle him, splashed in water and saw the gleam of moonlight on water. He stopped, drown- ing mosquitoes in his own sweat, wondered where he was, hoped that it was the creek and shouted— “Yama- -£U-0-0-0-0-0.” ““Oo-00-00-0!” answered him. A violent squawk brought him face about with his rifle to his shoulder. The forest murmured and sighed; mosquitoes buzzed in clouds. Yie-e! squealed a bird at him. Muttering something about a tree, he blundered on along the swamp edge, fell over something and grabbed. His hand clutched the edge of a small canoe drawn up on the swamp grass. At first hope made him think that it was his canoe and that Yamagulu was in the forest looking for him. He gave a mighty yell. That sobbing echo closed his mouth. A short investigation showed him that the canoe was smaller than his own. He glanced across the glimmer of water at the dense wall of the opposite jungle. Then sud- denly like a caress he became aware of the regular pulse of a distant drum. Desire carried the conviction that he had landed on the farther side of the creek from the village and that therefore by crossing he could make the camp by following the drum. He placed the rifle in, pushed the canoe hurriedly over the swamp up to his knees and clambered aboard. Pulling the canoe along the swamp-grass, he made deep water and began to paddle with his hands. A dark object near the other side, which he thought was a floating log, suddenly splashed and disappeared. “Crocodiles!” he gasped and paddled furiously. He landed without mishap, dragged the canoe up as far as possible and stopped to Adventure sinc none pot it began to rise. On and ety scarcely conscious of the mosquitoes. A a Sor dean srood ie Hii eAige 56m area’ eit A glow caught his eager eyes. He hastened toward it. in ‘the miconlicht wes the Ena outline of a hut. : nate God!” he muttered. “The vil- — e , As he hurried on, he perceived a great fence around the hut in which was the glow : of a fire at the base of an enormous tree, — The doctor reached the fence and peered — thecal He put up his hand and wiped eyes. “My God!” he murmured. “Am T crazy?” Seated beneath the great tree in a ; chair in the moonlight was a bearded white ee oe ening dress; an opera hat was _ tilted on his head; the firelight glowed u ; the expanse of shirtfront. pan IV Rae merit cet ns da 2j the doctor and pawed at The head was sunk forward slightly; the brown beard straggled over the shirtfront; one black-sleeved arm hung listlessly out- side the chair, the other upon the right knee. In the ight the eyes glinted blue as the man s at the fire. “But a white man in evening kit!”’ whis- pered the doctor incredulously. “Here! Good God! No, no,” he added after péer- ing at the outline of a square hut built be- neath the enormous boughs of the giant — tree. “It is. I’m not crazy. The feller’s © Evening kit—good God! What © the—he must be crazy, poor de ; ‘The impulse to call out was inhibited. He began to form excuses to himself. “T mustn’t call out suddenly,” he reflected, “or maybe I shall scare the life out of him. I must humor the poor devil. Yes, yes. — Of course—unbalanced. They do go that — way out here. Queer. Understand it, too, begad! Been in the forest all en ee haps pace et ee Sateioes—” scious of the ludicrous as of hime was in reality cena gx iss aa — am * x 4 ~; 7" =