Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 143: what you’re looking at

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

The White f ae CAPTAIN MONGE tilted his chair Maye back and ran his brown fingers through his tangled black hair. 2a been worried about you,” he said. “T’m glad to see you back. And you say you were delayed by your paddlers’ de- sertion down-river?”’ “Yes, captain.” Monge tapped his pencil on the table. Then he went on— “And you could not find canoes and paddlers until two days ago?” “‘No, captain.” ‘You were by the shore all that time?”’ “No. You see I made several trips in- land to attempt to find men.” “That accounts for Samake and his men not finding you!”’ Monge said. “The corpo- ral went down some fifty miles, and came back saying that you were not to be found. Reported a great deal of palaver in the native villages. Even claimed that there was a strange white man, with many fol- lowers, camped on our side.” He paused, then added— “While you were inland looking for boat- men, you hid the rifles?” “Yes, captain.”’ “That accounts for the dilapidated con- dition of the bundles,’’ Monge remarked. He drew a glass forward, filled it and offered Peller the drink. The sergeant looked guiltily about him at the walls of Captain Monge’s bungalow, at the compound outside. Suddenly, he became disgusted at himself, disgusted at his deceit. He blurted out the whole story, omitting nothing. Monge heard him in silence. “I suppose you are aware this precludes any thought of promotion,” he said when Peller finished. “Yes, captain.” Monge got up and paced back and forth, his hands in his pockets, his brow knit. “That’s a fine performance, sergeant. Wonderful!” he said in withering sarcasm. “All in all, about a dozen men killed in neutral territory, and twice that number wounded!”’ Peller perspired with humiliation, but did not reply. He, too, had risen, and stood still under the storm of scorn from his superior. “A little thing like the breach of neu- Man’s Way I4i trality, after the recent episodes that have made relations tense, that’s nothing! Sergeant Peller must have his little hunt, his little hippo, eh?” Monge came closer to Peller, then sud- denly relaxed into a grin, slammed his hand on the sergeant’s shoulder. “You lucky fool!’ he said. Peller regarded him blankly. “Do you think the Ubangi is still a desert?”? Monge asked. ‘“Samake, on his way back, met with Major Doucet, who wrote me a letter. That was after all your stunts when you really were looking for paddlers. I know about the trick of the tree. [ had Samake question Bo Diare. I know all about the little swim, too. I don’t know whether you should be shot or decorated!” Peller overjoyed, for he saw that things, were breaking his way; and that, the chief smiling, leniency was certain, gulped the drink on the table. “There are two things needed for a man to succeed in a military career, initiative and luck,” said Monge. “You have too much initiative, and a passable amount of luck. When I passed my examination for my commission, Peller, one of my friends was asked for the definition of ‘initiative.’ He was flustered, had forgotten the text~- book answer. He replied: ‘Initiative is disobedience that turns out for the best.’ And he had it right! After all, Carlotti was a criminal, his men were little better. And you drove him right into Doucet’s arms. But Heaven help you if you try anything like that again!” Peller thought of his fuck, of his com- mission, now certain, and went outside and gave Bo Diare and his fellows enough money to celebrate. Initiative and luck—if luck only held! The Ouolof corporal, who stood with the Bambara firauleur, Tiebe Samake, he who had searched for Peller’s detachment on the river, accepted the offer of silver pieces. Peller, walking away, heard a brief con- versation. “Toubab—white man—he be good to tirailleur and he no fear crocodile,”’ Bo Diare remarked. Tiebe Samake, who had at one time served under Peller, replied— “Tt be white man’s way.” Go DOOLK (C@ S|