Adventure Magazine Cover — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Buried Gods 7 was undoubtedly a portion torn from a shirt of striped cotton such as was sold in whites’ stores. Evidently the message had been written with some blunt instrument, possi- bly a piece of stick, and the blood had soaked into the material like ink upon blotting-paper, but the words ‘Mount Elgon—help—buried—’’, were readable. The rest was utterly indecipherable—a mere blob of stains and chunks of congealed blood except for one word which appeared to be “goods” or “gods.” “H’m,” grunted the doctor, “some poor fool who doesn’t know Africa’s greed.”’ Vaguely startled by such words from the little man, Dorsay stared at him. The bright eyes twinkled like a terrier’s at the sight of a bone. “Come ‘long; breakfast.” “But this?” said Dorsay, indicating the bloody message in his hand. The doctor’s black muzzle seemed to grin. “Make a nice curio for you to take home.” “But, say, d’you really mean you’re not going to do anything about it?”’ “Pff!”? snorted the doctor. “T’ve got my mill to look after. No time for wildcat schemes. Show you elephant tomorrow.”’ Dorsay looked at him, conscious of rising anger at what he considered the lack of sporting instinct in Doctor Macnamara. “Thanks,” he said a trifle stiffly, “but I sha’n’t have time. I'll take the down train tomorrow, for I’m going after this.” “You don’t realize what you’re taking on,” snapped the doctor. “Probably,” replied Dorsay. ‘‘That’s what will make it more interesting.” “Probably make another who won’t come back, young man.”’ “Still more interesting,” retorted Dorsay. At breakfast he could not resist showing the message to the others, hoping that some one would volunteer to go along. But the doctor’s brother merely smiled amusedly, and the other deprecated the possibility of ever locating the site of the supposed buried ivory. ; “Nothing to work on,” said Simpson. “My , Elgon’s as big as Tasmania, and the Turkana won’t stand monkeying with. ’Sides Government won’t let you go in.” Dorsay spent the whole day mooning about the shacks and wandering on the verge of the forest. Sometimes he sat in the shade staring at the blood-stained rag as if trying to extract more information, at other times day-dreaming of the tragedy or ad- venture that lay behind. He couldn’t undertand how any man with red blood could refuse such an oppor- tunity. True, he didn’t know all the diffi- culties ahead, but that’s where the fun lay, to his thinking. The chief trouble as he saw it was the lack of the native speech. He would have to hire an interpreter. Anyway he would return to the Travelers’ Club at Nairobi to see if he couldn’t hunt up some one sporting enough to go in with him. At dinner he might have been accused of sulking. Within, excitement was burning so intensely that he could not discuss the matter in cold blood; resentment, too, par- alyzed his tongue. In the evening the doc- tor, after preparing his guns for the morrow, launched again into his discursive mood— which developed apparently only after sun- down—but he did not mention elephant. Next morning the doctor aroused Dor- Say. “Come on, young man; time to start.” “But there isn’t any train until nine- thirty, is there, doctor?” inquired Dorsay. “H’m. So you’re going down then, eh?’’ “Sure I am. Haven’t I said so? I’m very much obliged for your hospitality, doctor,’’ continued Dorsay stiffly. ‘And I’m sorry I can’t stay on, but— Well, when I’ve made up my mind I kinder got to go through with it.” “H’m, I see. Obstinate young cub, eh? Same stock as your uncle.” “Sure, I hope I am.” “Good-by and good luck, my boy. If you get through alive come and tell me what you found. Good-by.” ae AFTER a tight grip of the hand the little doctor was gone. Conscious of a renewed sense of disappoint- ment that the doctor hadn’t changed his mind at the last moment, Dorsay lay staring at the embers of the fire, dreaming. Pity too, he thought; for apparently there wasn’t another man as good as the little doctor in the whole country who knew as much about natives. At breakfast Dorkin asked to have a look at the blood message again, and this time evinced more interest than before, poring over it for some time in the full rays of the sun together with his partner, with whom he had evidently been discussing the affair, CORNICLOOKS (E@)