Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

The Throwback plainly visible deep below the leaves. Putting the hat down he moved back to the plants and stepped into them. Care- fully he put out his hands and pushed them aside. Next second, with a yelp, he was outside the plants again and standing with perspiration oozing out of him. “Poor beggar,’ he was saving loudly. “T’ll bet he was lost and found this patch of tomatoes and gorged and died by them. But he gave me a scare.” Gradually control came back and he en- tered the plants again and trod them down. There in the middle of them was a skeleton —the remains of a skeleton—which may have been there for years. Not a sign of clothing or boots or anything to identify it. The white ants would have eaten the clothes the very first day it was there in any case, but the bones had fallen apart and many of them were half-buried in the sand. “Poor beggar,’ Charlie said again as he trod and kicked more of the bush and roots away. “Can’t even tell if he was a white man or a Kafir.”’ A faint clink as of something harder striking against his foot made him hesitate. Stooping, he scratched the sand from where his foot had struck. The top of a tin box such as would contain mustard or be used to keep salt dry came into view. Curiously Charlie pulled it out and pried off the rusted lid. Nervously his fingers reached in and pulled out the contents. “Well, I'll be eternally hanged,” he ex- claimed sadly as he picked up his gun and tomatoes. ‘He was white right enough, poor devil. There’ll be some queer reading for me in camp this breakfast-time.”’ Mins. ities SEATED on the disselboom of the wagon Charlie opened the tin once more. Inside was a small, faded book; beneath the book a little ball of rags. Curiously he opened the book and hunted for any name or sign of identity. Many of the pages were covered with iron mold, some were torn, others were rotted away. But most of them were in good enough con- dition to make out the gist of what was written on them. The entries were in pencil and mostly very much abbreviated, though in almost all cases understandable. The first entry had been made fifteen years before; the last was in March, fourteen years back. Wonder- 139 ingly Charlie commenced deviphering them from beginning to end. Troubles in the old country, immigrating to Africa, coming up-country, wife dying and his having to bury her, then details of the last days of his life. 1906: Mar: 7. Queer thing today. Strange Kafir came wagon. Wanted buy clothes belonging wife. Ribbons belonging Mary. Refused. Ka- fir offered tremendous diamond. Let him have several pieces useless finery. Kafir had red hair and two toes on each foot. Freak. Wish dear Nell had lasted till now. Diamond would have settled all our troubles. Too late now. Must go on another hundred miles or so, then make home for Mary. She was three yesterday. Mar: 10. Came to another of the many ancient ruins. Whole town. High round tower in cen- ter. Stone. Figure carved high on wall inside man two toes each foot. kKafirs say ancient burial-place. Haunted. Afraid to go in. Su- perstitious fools! Shall hack off carving to- morrow take as curio. Going dig and investigate, And there the diary ended abruptly. In deep thought Charlie looked away to the horizon and attempted to reconstruct the happenings in his mind. To him it was all almost as clear as if he were watch- ing it, but the sudden ending puzzled him. And the incident of the two-toed Kafir made him uneasy. Jumpilv he came back to the tir and searched in it for the little bundle of rags. Just as in his own case the bundle was knotted rag inside rag. Nervously he untied each rag and laid it aside. Four or five wrappings and he came to the end. Clearly he could fee] the hard surface of some object as he unfastened the remaining rag. The last rag was opened. Inside was a diamond almost identical with his own. With instant misgiving—with a sudden feeling that he had been for once cleverly fooled—Charlie opened his shirt and took gia belt. With fingers shaking like leaves in a wind he took a small bundle froma pocket in it and unbound the rags from round his own stone. The glorious dia- mond was there just the same as when he had wrapped it up. As real and pure a diamond as ever African volcano spewed up. See so, Piet, and look this over. Hang trading for the time being. I don’t feel like it.” For half a mile or more the wagon had threaded its way through broken, scattered stone walls of an ancient ruined town. “T’M GOING to stay here a day or Gbooks 5}