Air Stories — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

SECRET OF KALUNDA Grant turned his chair and gave the man a searching glance. ‘‘What have you to report?’’ he asked with a calmness he was far from feeling. ‘‘ News bad, Master,’’ Umtata replied. ‘‘ The tribes gather. Afali make trouble. He talkie tribes, British no more good. He say big ship take away all white men.’’ Grant considered this for a moment. It was true that most of the troops at the garrison on the distant coast had been transferred by sea to Suez. Though their services had never yet been re- quired here, their very presence had ensured an orderly and happy life for the native population. Of the massacres and atrocities that had been an almost daily occurrence before Grant took charge there had since been no sign. Until now. Within a week— within a day, almost—of the departure of those troops trouble had begun. Afali, the rebel, had emerged from his hiding to spread mischief over the countryside and to stir up religious fanaticism. From the summit of the mountain beyond the gorge, men had already been thrown with a superhuman force which carried their bodies right across the ravine to be battered to death against the rocks on the other side—the side beneath Grant’s very win- dow. For such was the unique method of sacrifice used by this primitive people. Only that: morning Grant had seen a native come hurtling down—his first warning of the unrest which now swept Towonga from end to end. For it was not until later that his men had come in with alarming news. It was then that he had sent out his massive police sergeant to try to gain some idea of the extent of the disaffection. Involuntarily, Grant now looked out through the window at the mountain wall confronting the bungalow, half expecting to see yet another wretched body thud sickeningly against the cliff beneath him. ‘‘They gather above,’’ said Umtata, whose eyes followed his master’s. ‘‘ For theo. ‘* Sacrifice,’’ prompted Grant. He swung round, to catch an expres- sion of fear in the native’s face. ‘‘ We ‘must stop this, Umtata.’’ 39 ‘Yes, sar. You have sent the sky message for help ? ’”’ Grant nodded. ‘‘I wirelessed an hour ago. But help cannot arrive for a week at earliest. Until then we must do our best. How many men are within call ? ”’ ‘* Ten, sar.’’ ‘‘ Then the patrol is not yet back ? ”’ ‘*No, sar, but it will come before the sun falls.’’ That it might never return was in the minds of both men at that moment, but neither dared voice the thought. ‘*Get the men together,’’ ordered Grant. ‘‘Serve out extra ammunition, and see that five men are always within the compound. Five more will go out with the message that I will severely punish any who disobey or cause trouble in any way ; that Britain is strong, has thousands of ships of the sea and ships of the air. These men will not go far, and after three hours they will return. The other five will then go out. It is clear ? ”’ ‘‘ Yes, sar,’’ smiled Umtata, and left the room. MOMENT after the native sergeant had left Grant’s room, a girl entered. She was young and attractive, and bore a strong resemblance to the worried man who now sat with his gaze fixed upon the sinister ravine of death. The girl tip-toed across the room, put her arms round Grant as he sat with back turned, and kissed the top of his head. ‘‘T’m going out,’’ she said. first I’ll give you tea, Daddy.”’ Grant turned with something near a smile, and put an arm round the girl’s waist. ‘* Hello, Judy,’’ he said, ‘‘ I was just thinking about you. I’m afraid you’ll have to go back to England very soon now.’’ His daughter made a mock grimace. Her father had broached this subject ‘* But CO DOO)