Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

THE JU-JU MAN. “Fell me, are my mother and father alive?” “Yes, missy. talk more!” _ Celia, relieved of her worst fears, cheer- fully set about writing a note. She won- dered why C’Wayo had stipulated that Fred should be her correspondent instead of her father, but wasted no time in arguing the point. She cast around for writing ma- terials, for she had neither pen nor pencil, and finally hit upon a scheme. She ejected one of the cartridges from her revolver, found a sheet of paper, and scrawled a few words with the soft leaden nose of the bul- let. The note was necessarily short and to the point. “Safe. Armed. Come quick.” There she hesitated, smiled a little, and scribbled a hieroglyphic that perhaps only a lover could have deciphered as “love.” She signed the missive “‘ C. H.,” folded it, and marked the outside, “ F. R.” She pushed the note beneath the tent and felt it taken from her hand. Then a low voice whispered, ‘“ No fear, missy. C’Wayo always here!” She waited a little while for any fur- ther sign or sound, but nothing rewarded her patience. Finally her heart lightened of its heaviest burden, she extinguished her lantern, threw herself upon her blankets, and was asleep almost immediately. C’Wayo crept away cautiously until as- sured that he was safe, when he slipped along more rapidly. He plunged into the jungle, where the rays of the moon could not penetrate, but his step was as sure and his pace as swift as though he possessed the feline quality of vision in the dark. He had gone half a mile before he con- sidered it safe to make his preparations for the final task that remained on his pro- gram for this busy night. In a tiny clearing that suited him he kindled a small fire of dry twigs and leaves. Upon this he cast a number of blades of sweet-smelling grass that he plucked in the vicinity, and when the fire was burning nicely he tossed into the heart of the flames a pinch of greasy powder that he drew from the pouch at his waist. An oily smoke ascended from the blaze, Um lib for Mafadi. No 833 and into its choking fumes he thrust his head, inhaling them deeply. After a moment he withdrew, gasping, flung himself flat upon his back, and closed his eyes. His form grew rigid. His breath- ceased. To all appearances he lay there dead. CHAPTER XII. DREAM TOURS. OLDEN, suffering agonies from his wound, recovered consciousness as he was lifted into the litter prepared for his return to Mafadi, but a high fever made it difficult for him to talk coherently with Rushton. He could only urge the young man to take every precaution for his own safety, to follow the advice of M’Buli in matters relating to the handling of the Batateke warriors—and to stay upon the trail of the Bololos until Celia was rescued and revenged. The trader’s eyes snapped with their old fire as he emphasized this final command, and he seemed relieved by the fervor with which Fred swore to obey it. Then the bearers shouldered their bur- den, and Rushton was left alone to face the greatest responsibility of his life. In spite of the rapidity with which every- thing had happened, it was nearly four o’clock when Fred waved his hand in a last farewell to the wounded trader. He hardly dared to believe that the Batateke chief would exact further efforts from his men that day, but he reckoned without the tough endurance of the African savage. M’Buli was mindful of the fact that two hours of light remained, and that it was a good period of the day in which to travel. He marshaled his men, who had snatched a brief nap while their leaders solved prob- lems of their own, and led off at his easy, swinging gait that fairly ate up the distance. Twelve miles had been covered before they halted for the night. Fred was too weary to say more than a few words of congratulation to M’Buli on the progress they had made. Then he swal- lowed a small quantity of food and was asleep almost before he could wrap himself in his blankets. comicloool C©