Adventure, February 1917 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

66 do? That thing she must compass, what- ever it might be. She tried, with her heart - thrumming against her ribs, to think what Ben would have done. And_.the answer came back, as if spoken in her ear: “He couldn’t be heard or seen in the rain and dark. He would creep over to the boys’ fly, wake them quietly, and have them hold their rifles in readiness. Then, if the can- nibals made a rush, he would order them to fire.”’ -She had been frightened before, when danger was not certain. Now that the low- est of her senses had taken duty, in the eclipse of the others, and told her that dan- ger was truly at hand, she felt steady and quiet. And the dream feeling was quite gone. One foot after the other, she crept off her bed—she had lain down fully dressed, even to her boots. In the dark, she slipped, inch by inch, to the opening of the tent, feeling her way, for even the dim triangle of faintest gray that marked the doorway had disappeared in this dark hour before the dawn. Once she almost fell; she gritted her teeth and got her balance back. The faint smell seemed fainter; she must be moving away from it. How long it took to creep across to the boys’ fly! Yet it was but a few yards away She found the slope of canvas with her hand, and dipped underneath. Even through the noise of the rain, she could hear the snoring of the tired carriers. Her sentry, placed at the door of the tent, was lying curled up in a dead slumber. She had expected nothing else. How did people wake other people, when it was necessary to be quiet? In- stinct taught her again. She felt for the nearest carrier, knowing him to be Pump- kin, as she had seen the boys turn in, and very cautiously passed her hand down his arm, with a stroking movement, at the same time placing her fingers lightly on his mouth. Pumpkin had not been brought up in Jamieson Island for nothing. He woke at once and tapped her arm to let her know it. She put her mouth to his ear. “Bushmen,” she whispered. “Wake the boys. Take the She could feel him trembling under her _ hand, but he acted with unexpected prompt- ness. He slipped off the staging of the fly, Adventure woke the other carriers by some means of his own, and made each man take the rifle that lay cocked and loaded beside him. Edith could feel them shuffling and moy- ing about, and catch the vibration of the gunstocks as they set them down on the staging, crooked in their arms. She drew her own revolver, preferring to trust to it at close quarters. They waited. The rain thundered on; wet smells from the forest, deadly sweet, wafted past them on a stray puff of wind. The carriers, hud- dled together on the staging, shuffled their malodorous bodies now and then, and one or two of them trembled as Pumpkin had done. Obviously, they were very much afraid. It seemed a long time, but judged after- ward by the watch, was not more than half an hour, before the light puffs of breeze be- gan to increase to a steady flow, the air was touched with the faintest tinge of gray, and the rain slackened, died away, ceased. Dawn came quickly.- A swamp pheasant sent up its long bubbling note, like the cry of a drowning man. A leatherneck i in the bush cried piercingly: “Q do come here! O do come here! O do 33 Edith stretched out her cramped limbs and slipped off the staging. “Pumpkin, I think he no coming, this man-bush,” she said; day was a wonderful heartener. “T think,” said Pumpkin. The carriers got down and began to roam about the little clearing where they had camped, looking for the ‘‘man-bush.”” They were very brave, now that the sun was up. They still carried their rifles in their hands, and told each other what they were going to do to the Lalang mountaineers. Sudden- ly one of them yelled and began pointing to Edith’s tent-fly. Edith came over. The canvas was rent through in a long ugly jag, and her camp bed, underneath, was split by a spear. The carriers began to chatter like a lot of parrots, vying with the real parrots that were now awake in the trees, and squealing and squawking after their morning meal. Edith did not know what the men were say- ing, but she needed no words to tell her what she had escaped. She stood looking at the rent canvas of the bed, the jagged duck of the tent, and JOO: S (ECA NICE (E©)