Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 206: what you’re looking at

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

AN AFRICAN SECRET. 197 upward there was that fearful swtsh, as of a mighty lash, that had startled Brad- shaw when’he was resting at the border of the forest with Pan. It was appalling, this living engine of murder, with its terrific power and marvelous elasticity. No guillotine could be more certain, no hangman’s rope more dreadful. Bradshaw turned his eyes from the tree, that swayed slightly from the 1m- petus of its rise, and looked at the black dignitary. ‘“ Quite a tree you’ve got there,” he remarked with a drawl. The tall black’s impassive demeanor was visibly shaken by the American's nonchalance. “What!” he cried; “don’t you realize.that that is the way you'll take from this sacred place? That thus we assure ourselves against your return? ” “Oh!” said Bradshaw, “ you use the tree as an elevator, do yout It seems a little unhandy to bring the thing down. I[ should think, now, that tree would serve your purpose better if it was split up and made into bows.” “To shoot you with?” snapped the black. “ Oh, no; I didn’t come to Africa to be shot.” “ But you did to die!” “T think not. I’m hunting for a man. If you can’t or won’t give me any in- formation about him, the sooner you send me on my way, the better. You see, my carriers over there won’t know what’s become of me.” ‘“ They never will know!” cried the black, beside himself at the American’s indifference. “ The tree will be brought down again, and when it rises next time you will be hurled into eternity.” “That’s quite a throw,” drawled Bradshaw, “and no tree in Africa is equal to it.” With a snort of rage, the black turned to his men and gave commands in quick, harsh tones. Obediently several started again up the side of the excava- tion to the base of the tree. Two others stepped up to Bradshaw and tied a fibrous thong about his neck. “ Rather close for a hot day,” he re- marked. . “Do not dream your impudence will save you,” exclaimed the black ; “ you'll whine loudly enough within fifteen minutes, but that will not avail you either. It is your fate to die because you ventured to. set foot upon this sacred place.” The men were beginning again to shin up the tree. For all his indifferent demeanor, Bradshaw’s heart was thumping at a rapid rate, and he won- dered that no flush betrayed his intense anxiety. Fifteen minutes! Could anything happen in that time to save him? Would Pan come back? What could be hoped for from Pan with all these twenty against him? Even if the entire force of carriers could be brought up they would be useless against such bloodthirsty bar- barians as these. But what had become of Pan? It did not seem like him to desert his employer even in this over- whelming crisis. Bradshaw was far from making light of the situation. It appealed to him with all possible force and seriousness, but his tone was cool, crisp, and business- like when next he addressed the black leader. ‘“T don’t know what there is in this place to make it sacred or so important for you to keep it hidden,” he said, “but I have no interest in it. I told your subordinate that I expected to pay for peaceful transit here as I have done elsewhere. I presume he understood me. [ shall be glad to hear your terms while your men are getting that tree down again.” “Ha!” exclaimed the black, con- temptuously; it was almost a laugh, and if it had been quite one, Bradshaw would have been inspired by hope; for there are possibilities in a man who can see humor in things. “T have some mattcrsthias ay yeht be CO