Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 179: what you’re looking at

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

_ G4 - moodily. Pe it away irritably. “— it, I continually do that. Carry things about. Still what does it matter?” . Sticking the cigar in his mouth, he be- gan to pace up and down before the fire, staring at the ground. The doctor did not disturb him. Presently he began with a jerk: 4 “PVE got it, by Jove. I know. I began yarning about that first ne « ame dds e Well, after that Africa seemed to get in my blood. I broke off the engagement with Sybil. Had to, only decent thing to do. Can’t expect a woman to wait—like a sergeant’s wife? An’ one can’t drag her around here, eh? ‘*Sides, I’m not a marrying man. Never was. Poor old Sybby. I wonder whether she’s still running the Cheshire? “Oh well, on the second trip I had a mania to come through Tchad, pick up Boyd Alexander’s trail—poor old boy— and zigzag down through the Albert Lakes and land eventually in Rhodesia. I circled Tchad and went off to the Dinka country. ee Fold you all that though, didn’t I? Well, never mind. I tacked back here an’ barged into old Basayaguru as youvdid, eh? An’ the old cutthroat made me King of the Wood!” He stopped to raise his head and emit that throaty chuckle. The doctor, watch- ing him keenly, began to revise his opinion of his sanity. He wheeled round, one hand stuck under the tails of his coat and the other holding the cigar. __ “Bally idiot, ain’t I?’’ he demanded. _ “You wait, ol’ boy! Your inning’s néxt for King of the Wood.” He barked rather _ than laughed this time. e “Still, I’ve played the game, your eyes!” He appeared to be addressing somebody unseen, but he said, “No, I mean you, Doc.” He began to pace again “Sorry, ol’ chap,” he said as abruptly. ‘You'll understand as soon as I can spit it out. I say, the old boy’s very generous with his ivory an’ stuff, isn’t he?” rs Thought so. Invited ‘you to e of the Sacred Tree, admitted the little doctor, ~ _* Stree. ve _ theirs? f | The Tree of Life “Same hellish trick, Still, it would have been the same anyway. How many men have you, Doc?” “Twenty-five. “‘All armed?” “Well—Sniders enough for all of ’em, but——* “Oh pish!” he waved an impatient hand. “What bally rot I’m talking. Isn’t a dog’s chance. My dear old boy, I had fifty—all armed with Martinis.” “T’m afraid I don’t understand.” “Good God, of course you don’t! know anything about folklore?” SA little.” “Talked about the Sacred Tree, didn’t MV es”? os “Well, that’s the bloody thing there!” He raised a hand to the giant tree above him. “Mother of all an’ has to have a husband every year.” “So I understand. My head man, Ali Mohammed, told me that they have muddled some -ancient Arab philosophy with their own superstitions. Very inter- esting ceremony, I should imagine.” “Interestin’ ceremony! i Agitatedly the tall man began to pace up and down before the fire again, sucking fiercely at the stump of the cigar. “T’m to be the thing’s husband,” he jerked out. “Indeed,” said the doctor interestedly, for he knew of many ceremonies prevalent in Europe as elsewhere of the symbolical marriage of a girl to a tree. Then sud- denly, “Oh, you mean that they’ve kept you here a prisoner for this ceremony of But that’s nonsense. I mean of course I’ll help you fo ——”’ Warren-Duk wheeled upon him swiftly and, pointing his cigar at him, cried: “But you fool. I’ve told you you're trapped for the next husband.” “Husband!” repeated the little doctor bewilderedly. - “Yes, yes.” ¢ ; “But what—what happens to you?” _ “Me? I’m sacrificed to this confounded juju. Are you blind? The night of the marriage orgy they carve me up, wipe out Three canoes.” T say, your camp and stick you here to make | magic for twelve moons.” _ “My God!” ejaculated half rising to his feet. 2 ¢ > i —_ r ‘ oe * , i soa ‘ * om ms ie ~~ ww . ae <8 > _ . the little doctor, | ‘"