Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

The Throwback arms clasped round them, sat and looked into the blazing fire. Beneath the wagon the Cape-boy lay and snored his loudest; on the far side the fire the Kafir slept bun- dled in his blankets and all the noise in Christendom would not have worried him. Dreamily Charlie gazed into the flames and thought over the day’s happenings, over the happenings of the past few weeks. And in his mind he tried to piece them in with the happenings of years before. Afiica, the land of so many strange things. Strange things which always were explainable, yet unexplainable. Drowsily he struggled to throw his mind back a thousand years, hazily he tried to force it forward a hundred. The flames flickered, died. Nothing but a pile of glowing ashes remained. And they were fitfully blackening. Wearily. Charlie’s eyes closed and he drew the first few breaths of sleep. “Eh, e-e-eh,” a voice in dreamland seemed to say—a voice he somehow knew. Half- consciously the white man raised his eyelids. “Eh, e-e-eh.” came again. Thoroughly awake the white man sat bolt upright and looked around. ““Sacca bona, baas. Sacca bona, M’Lun- gu, distinctly sounded from somewhere close beside the sleeping Kafir. Shakily Charlie threw on a handful of diy wood and the flames shot up again. ““Sacca bona, M’Lungu,’”’ the voice said softly. ““Sacca bona, me foot. What the —— are you doing here?” the white man asked, a horrible sensation seeming to grip him by the throat and to clog his tongue. The two-toed Kafir stood closer to the fire, the flames playing on him making him look like a bronze statue. Innocently as a little child he looked straight at the white man, a simple smile throwing lines of light and shadow across his curious face. “T have come to help the white man. The white man was good to me.” ‘How in blazes can you help, Rooikop? You can’t help me trading.” “T am not going to help the AL’ Lungu trade. When I have helped the A2’Lungu he will never trade again.” For an instant a suspicious twinge shot itself through the white man’s system, but the friendly smile on the Kafir’s face quickly wiped it out and reassured him. Gradually The voice more clearly 141 he felt] more at ease and he also smiled. “Something wonderful, eh, Rooikop? Some special good turn for me. Going to make my fortune, eh?” “The M’Lungu speaks truly,” the Kafir said very seriously. ‘If he will come with me I will show him where I get the dia- monds.”’ Again the white man was suspicious, but his anxiety overcame it. ‘All right. To- morrow I will come with you.” The Kafir lowered himself to his haunches and his eyes were level with the other’s. “The Af’ Lungu must come tonight. To- morrow may be too late,”’ he said decisively. ‘“‘Why too late? What difference does a day make, Rooikop?”’ “Tomorrow the diamonds may be gone. Others may get them.”’ For a while the white man sat silent. Then he slowly rose to his feet and stretched his arms and yawned. “T’ll come with you in the morning,” he said. “I’m too tired tonight.” Stiffly the Kafir also rose. Once more his eyes were on a level with those of the man opposite. “The M’Lungu must come,” he urged in a harsh whisper. Instantly the white man was flaming hot and angry. ‘‘Who the —— are you to tell me what I must or must not do?” he shouted as he walked round to the native. “If you don’t clear out and leave me alone till daylight I'll get a sjambok and half murder you.” Undaunted the Kafir stood his ground. “Tf the AL’Lungu does not come with me tonight he will never come. Tomorrow I shall be very far away.”’ The white man halted and stared at the fire as if for inspiration. “How much of a walk is it? Where- about in the ruins are the things hidden?”’ The Kafir’s face clouded. “They are not in the ruins, M’Lungu. Nothing has been hidden in those ruins since the earth was young. The diamonds are far from here. A full night’s walk.” “To blazes with it. Wait till morning.” “Bring a rifle, Af’Lungu. Let us start.” With halting steps Maddocks walked to the wagon. A moment later, with rifle under his arm, he dropped in behind the Kafir and headed off into the darkness. Hour after hour the Kafir padded along ahead without comment. Once or twice COmiclbook CO