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Updated: May 17, 2025
Gradually, but with increasing certainty, their course defines itself, until at last months later they come trotting into camp. These two jogged in broadly agrin. Cazi Moto and Simba led them at once to Kingozi's chair. "These men bring a barua for you, bwana," said Cazi Moto. Kingozi took the split wand with the letter thrust crosswise in the cleft. "Who sent them?" he asked.
"Ach!" he cried, recognizing Kingozi's two men. "So it is you! What have you done with my safari?" "I led it to my bwana," replied Simba. "Where you may now lead me," said Winkleman resignedly. "By what means have you thought of these things, N'ympara?" "By the magic of this," replied Simba with becoming modesty, producing the precious bone. "Ach the saurian!" cried Winkleman. "I remember.
Not from the government. He unfolded the sheets of paper and ran his fingers over the pages. Written in pencil; he could feel the indentations where the writer had borne down. Some private individual writing him from camp on the Congo side. Who could it be? Kingozi's Central African acquaintance was wide; he knew most of the gentlemen adventurers roaming through that land of fascination.
There was no pain. After a while Cazi Moto came to report that the Leopard Woman was out and about. Kingozi's message had been delivered. "She says you shall come to her tent," concluded Cazi Moto. Kingozi considered. To insist that she should come to him might lead to a downright refusal, unless he sent her word of his condition. This he did not wish to do.
"In appearance, yes; in effect most radically and fatally different like people," smiled Kingozi. But though Kingozi's scientific interest was keen in certain directions as ethnology, drugs, and zoology it had totally blind spots.
Their guides for there were several indicated the guest houses, and silently disappeared. The safari was alone with its own devices. Kingozi's practical voice broke the slight awe that all this savage magnificence had imposed. "Cazi Moto!" he commanded, "tell me what is here."
It is a very large safari with many loads," she added. Kingozi's face turned gray. He dropped his face into his hands. Gently she laid her hand on his bowed head. Thus they waited, while the safari, evidently under local guidance, plunged into some hidden path through the papyrus, and so disappeared.
At last she evidently made up her mind she must find out. Quietly she drew near them unnoticed, so that at last she was standing only a few feet to one side. There she witnessed the final triumph as to the morphine, and heard Kingozi's last confident speech.
"Now here is what I have said," he spoke aloud. "See. By this curve " He broke off, staring curiously into Kingozi's face. The latter sat apparently looking out across the hills, paying no attention to the fact that Winkleman had thrust the bone fairly under his nose. The pause that ensued became noticeable. Kingozi stirred uneasily, turning his eyes in the direction of the scientist.
And here, where we stand, it is perhaps twenty days, perhaps more. Winkleman would arrive nearly two weeks ahead of you. Tell me, how long would it take you to win M'tela's friendship so it would not be shaken?" Kingozi's face lit with a grim smile. "A week," he promised confidently. "You see! And Herr Winkleman is equal to you; you have said so yourself. Is not it so?" "It's so, all right."
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