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Schillingschen blundered into the trap like a buffalo in strange surroundings.
"Ja wohl!" he answered. "Give me that, and yon shall never see me again!"
At that Fred threw himself full length on his blanket and took one of Schillingschen's cigars.
"Of course," he said, "you would give anything for leave to take those words back! You needn't try to hide the wince--we fully appreciate the situation! What do you say, you fellows? How about last night's idea?
Who mooted it? Shall we send him back by canoe to German East, with a guarantee that if he doesn't go we'll hand over diary and him to our government?"
"Better send the book to the commissioner at Nairobi, or Mombasa, or wherever he is," suggested Will. "Then if the 'prof' here doesn't get a swift move on he's liable to be overtaken by the cops, I should say."
"Let's make no promises," said I. "I vote we simply give him time to get away."
At that the Germain saw the weak side of our case in a flash.
"If you dared give that diary to your government," he growled, "you would do so without bargaining with me! Why do you propose to let me go? Out of love for me? No! But because you dare not appeal to your government! Give me that diary, and I will go at once to German East, not otherwise! It is only a diary," he added. "Nothing important--merely my private jottings and memoranda."
Fred turned toward me so that Schillingschen could not see his face.
"Are you willing to start for Kisumu at once with that book?" he asked, and I nodded. He winked at me so violently that I could not trust myself to answer aloud and keep a straight face.
"Very well,"' he said. "Suppose you start with it to-morrow morning.
At the end of a week well turn the professor home to follow his own nose!"
Schillingschen shrugged his shoulders and refused to be drawn into further argument. We gave him a good meal from his own provisions, and then once more made his hands fast with wire behind him and left him to sleep off his rage if he cared to in a corner of the tent.
Later that morning we sent for the Baganda--gave him a view of Schillingschen trussed and helpless--and questioned him about the man he boasted he knew, who could tell us what Schillingschen was after.
He was so full of fear by that time that he held back nothing.
He a.s.sured us the German was after buried ivory. There was a man, who had promised to meet Schillingschen, who knew where to find the ivory and would lead the way to it. He did not know names or places--knew only that the man would be found waiting at a certain place, and was not white.
"How did you get that information?" Fred demanded.
"By listening."
"When? Where?"
"At night, months ago, in Nairobi, outside the professor's tent. I lay under the fly among the loads and listened. The man came in the dark, and went in the dark. I did not see him. I did not hear him called by name. He must have been an old man. Speaking Kiswahili, he admitted he knew where the ivory is. He said he saw it buried, and that he alone survives of all men who buried it. He promised to lead the professor to the place on condition that the Germans shall release his brother, and his brother's wife, and two sons whom they keep in prison on a life-sentence. The professor agreed, but said, 'Wait! There are first those people who also think they know the secret. Perhaps they do! Wait until after I have dealt with them. Then you shall take me to the place! After that your criminal relations shall be pardoned!
Here is money. Go and wait for me at the place we spoke of when we talked before.'"
We each cross-examined him in turn, but could not make him change his story in any essential. He merely exaggerated the parts that he guessed might please us, and begged to be allowed to run before Schillingschen could break loose and get after him.
By noontime, when we gave him his second meal, Schillingschen had made up his own mind that his case was desperate and called for heroic remedy.
"All right," he growled. "I need that diary. Hand it to me and I'll tell you how to find what you're after!"
"You mean about the man who's to meet you?" suggested Fred blandly.
Schillingschen started as if shot.
"One of your men is an eavesdropper," Fred a.s.sured him with a cheerful nod. "That plug has been pulled already, Professor!"
"Let's play the cards face up!" Will interrupted impatiently. "Listen, Schillingschen. You're an all-in scoundrel. You're a spy. You're a b.l.o.o.d.y murderer of women and defenseless natives. If we could prove that we wouldn't argue with you. We know you burned that dhow with the women in it, but we've got no evidence, that's all. We know the German government wants that ivory, and we know why. We also want it. Our only reason for secrecy is that we hope for better terms from the British government. We've nothing to fear, except possible financial loss. If you prefer to come with us to Kisumu and have the whole matter out in court, all you need do is just say so. On the other hand, if you want to get out of this country before your diary can reach the hands of the British High Commissioner--you'd just better slide, that's all!"
"You've only until dawn to think it over," remarked Fred. "You poor b.o.o.b!" continued Will. "You imagine we're criminals because you're one yourself! The difference between your offer and ours is that you're bluffing and we know it, whereas we're not bluffing by as much as a hair, and the quicker you see that the better for you!"
"Oh, rats! Let's take him in with us to Kisumu!" said I, and at that Professor Schillingschen capitulated.
"Very well," he said. "Kurtz und gut. I will leave the country. Permit me to take only food enough, and my porters, and one gun!"
"No guns!" said Fred promptly.
Schillingschen sighed resignedly, and we went out of the tent to talk over ways and means. In spite of our recent experience of Germany's colonial government we were still so ignorant of the workings of the mens germanica that we took his surrender at face value.
The problem of getting him down to the lake sh.o.r.e safely was none too simple. I was soft hearted and headed enough to propose that we should loose his hands, now that he had surrendered, and permit him reasonable liberty. Will--least inclined of all of us to cruelty--was disposed to agree with me. We might have overborne Fred's objections if Coutla.s.s and Brown, returning from walking off their overnight debauch together, had not shouted and beckoned us in a mysterious sort of way, as if some new discovery puzzled them.
We walked about a hundred and fifty yards to where they stood by a row of low ant-hills. Neither of them was in a sociable frame of mind. It was obvious from the moment we could see their faces clearly that they had not called us to enjoy a joke. They stood like two dumb bird-dogs, pointing, and we had to come about abreast of them before we knew why we were summoned.
There lay five clean-picked skeletons, one on each ant-hill. One was a big bird's; one looked like a dog's; the third was a snake's; the fourth a young antelope's; and the fifth was certainly that of a yellow village cur, for some of the hairs from the tip of its tail were remaining, not yet borne off by the ants.
The skeletons lay as if the creatures had died writhing. There were pegs driven into the earth that had evidently held them in position by the sinews. Most peculiar circ.u.mstance of all, there was a camp-chair standing very near by, with its feet deep in the red earth, as if a very heavy man had sat in it.
I went back to the camp and told Kazimoto to bring one of the professor's men. Kazimoto had to do the talking, for we did not know the man's language, nor he ours.
Yes, the professor always did that to animals. He liked to sit and watch them and keep the kites away. He said it was white man's knowledge (science?). Yes, the animals were pegged out alive on the ant-hills, and the professor would sit with his watch in his hand, counting the minutes until they ceased from writhing. It was part of the duty of the ten to catch animals and bring them alive to him in camp for that purpose. No, they did not know why he did it, except that it was white man's knowledge. No, natives did not do that way, except now and then to their enemies. The professor always made threats he would do so to them if they ran away from him, or disobeyed, or misbehaved. Certainly they believed him! Why should they not believe him? Did not Germans always keep their word when they talked of punishment?
We decided after that to let Schillingschen lie bound, whether or not the iron wire cut his wrists. We did not trouble to go back to inquire whether he needed drink, but let him wait for that until supper-time.
The remainder of that afternoon we spent discussing who should have the disagreeable and not too easy task of taking the professor to the lake and sending him on his way. We sat with our backs against a rock, with the firearms beside us and a good view of all the countryside, very much puzzled as to whether to leave Coutla.s.s behind in camp (with Brown and the whisky) or send him (with or without Brown) and one or two of us on the errand. He was a dangerous ally in either case.
Evening fell, and the good smell of supper came along the wind to find us still undecided. We returned to the tent thinking that perhaps something Schillingschen himself might say would help us to decide one way or the other.
"Better see if the brute wants a drink," said Fred, and I went in ahead to offer him water.
He was gone! Clean gone, without a trace, or a hint as to how he managed it! I called the others, and we hunted. The sides of the tent were pegged down tight all around. The front, it is true, was wide open, but we had sat in full view of it and not so much as a rat could have crept out without our seeing. There were no signs of burrowing.
He was not under the bed, or behind the boxes, or between the sides of the tent and the fly. The only cover for more than a hundred yards was the shallow depression along which we had come to the capture of the camp, and that was the way he must have taken. But that, too, had been practically in full view of us all the time.
We counted heads and called the roll. Coutla.s.s was close by. It did not look as if he had played traitor this time. Brown was sleeping off his headache in the shade. Kazimoto and all the boys were accounted for. The prisoners were safe. No donkeys were missing--no firearms--and no loads. The earth had simply opened up and swallowed Schillingschen, and that was all about it!
He had not made off with his pocket diary. Fred had that. There and then we packed it in an empty biscuit tin and buried it under a rock, Will and I keeping watch while Fred did the digging and covering up.
It was too likely that Schillingschen would come back in the night and try to steal it for any of us to care about keeping it on his person.
It was too late to look far and wide for him that evening. A hunter such as he could have lain unseen in the dark with us almost stepping on him. Gone was all appet.i.te for supper! We nibbled, and swore, and smoked--locked up the whisky--defied either Brown or Coutla.s.s to try to break the boxes open--and arranged to take turns on sentry-go all that night, Will, Fred, and I--declining very pointedly offers by the other two to have their part in keeping watch. In spite of lack of evidence we suspected Coutla.s.s; and we knew no particular reason for having confidence in Brown.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN