Genre Adventure. Page - 24

Oh no! He's gone back to be present at the King's coronation; a ceremony which, I should say, he'll not enjoy much. But, Bert, old man, don't despair! He won't marry the fair Antoinette--at least, not unless another plan comes to nothing. Still perhaps she--" He paused and added, with a laugh: "Royal attentions are hard to resist--you know that, don't you, Rudolf?"

"Confound you!" said I; and rising, I left the hapless Bertram in George's hands and went home to bed.

The next day George Featherly went with me to the station, where I took a ticket for Dresden.

"Going to see the pictures?" asked George, with a grin.

George is an inveterate gossip, and had I told him that I was off to Ruritania, the news would have been in London in three days and in Park Lane in a week. I was, therefore, about to return an evasive answer, when he saved my conscience by leaving me suddenly and darting across the platform. Following him with my eyes, I saw him lift his hat and accost a graceful, fashion

es. Only one seat, that of Nonan, remained empty. The old man had died of a chill that had left him bedridden and coughing for three weeks. No new elder had yet been selected but everyone expected the blacksmith Grado to take the seat. He was well liked and keen.

Severn was addressing the four old men stringing out lines of formality and false respect that left the four men baffled and confused. For four years Severn had asked the elders to open the old mines deeper in the hills but so far the elders declined. More salt mining required more salt miners. Enlarging the village was not desirable and most knew that Severn only desired wealth and a seat on the council of elders. He had been blocked for ten years.

"Uncle, I must speak," said Ca'daan. Severn scowled at him. Gauve looked at him and frowned.

"You may speak when it is your turn," he said. Severn cleared his throat to begin.

"Fena Set has burned," said Ca'daan. All eyes turned to him. Each face revealed either shock, anger, c

The fellow led her from the place, and together they walked quickly toward the wharf and along it until across the water they saw a small boat just pulling into the shadows of a near-by steamer.

"There they be," whispered the man.

"Ten pounds if you will find a boat and row me to that steamer," cried the woman.

"Quick, then," he replied, "for we gotta go it if we're goin' to catch the Kincaid afore she sails. She's had steam up for three hours an' jest been a-waitin' fer that one passenger. I was a-talkin' to one of her crew 'arf an hour ago."

As he spoke he led the way to the end of the wharf where he knew another boat lay moored, and, lowering the woman into it, he jumped in after and pushed off. The two were soon scudding over the water.

At the steamer's side the man demanded his pay and, without waiting to count out the exact amount, the woman thrust a handful of bank-notes into his outstretched hand. A single glance at them convinced the fellow that he had been

even convey different significationsby the simplest inflections of the voice.

Philologists have said that there are but two or threelanguages, properly speaking, among all the numerous tribeswhich formerly occupied the country that now composes theUnited States. They ascribe the known difficulty one peoplehave to understand another to corruptions and dialects. Thewriter remembers to have been present at an interviewbetween two chiefs of the Great Prairies west of theMississippi, and when an interpreter was in attendance whospoke both their languages. The warriors appeared to be onthe most friendly terms, and seemingly conversed muchtogether; yet, according to the account of the interpreter,each was absolutely ignorant of what the other said. Theywere of hostile tribes, brought together by the influence ofthe American government; and it is worthy of remark, that acommon policy led them both to adopt the same subject. Theymutually exhorted each other to be of use in the event ofthe cha

s royal kinsman, Namedides, and has been away from his native realm for years, but he is of the blood of the old dynasty, and many of the barons would secretly hail the overthrow of Conan, who is a nobody without royal or even noble blood. But the common people are loyal to him, and the nobility of the outlying provinces. Yet if his forces were overthrown in the battle that must first take place, and Conan himself slain, I think it would not be difficult to put Valerius on the throne. Indeed, with Conan slain, the only center of the government would be gone. He is not part of a dynasty, but only a lone adventurer."

"I wish that I might see this king," mused Xaltotun, glancing toward a silvery mirror which formed one of the panels of the wall. This mirror cast no reflection, but Xaltotun's expression showed that he understood its purpose, and Orastes nodded with the pride a good craftsman takes in the recognition of his accomplishments by a master of his craft.

"I will try to show him to you," he

The inadequate boat finally arrived at a precarious landing, thenatives, waist-deep in the surf, assisting. I was carried ashore,and while the evening meal was being prepared, I wandered to andfro along the rocky, shattered shore. Bits of surf-harriedbeach clove the worn granite, or whatever the rocks of CapeFarewell may be composed of, and as I followed the ebbing tidedown one of these soft stretches, I saw the thing. Were oneto bump into a Bengal tiger in the ravine behind the BiminiBaths, one could be no more surprised than was I to see aperfectly good quart thermos bottle turning and twisting in thesurf of Cape Farewell at the southern extremity of Greenland.I rescued it, but I was soaked above the knees doing it; and thenI sat down in the sand and opened it, and in the long twilightread the manuscript, neatly written and tightly folded, which wasits contents.

You have read the opening paragraph, and if you are an imaginativeidiot like myself, you will want to read the rest of it; so

well said," replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. "And now to cometo the material, or (to make a quibble) to the immaterial. I have herea little packet which contains four things." He tugged it, as he spoke,and with some great difficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. "Ofthese four things, the first is your legal due: the little pickle moneyfor your father's books and plenishing, which I have bought (as I haveexplained from the first) in the design of re-selling at a profit tothe incoming dominie. The other three are gifties that Mrs. Campbell andmyself would be blithe of your acceptance. The first, which is round,will likely please ye best at the first off-go; but, O Davie, laddie,it's but a drop of water in the sea; it'll help you but a step, andvanish like the morning. The second, which is flat and square andwritten upon, will stand by you through life, like a good staff for theroad, and a good pillow to your head in sickness. And as for the last,which is cubical, that'll see you, it's my pra

Kathlyn with evasions. Frowning,he replaced the order in the box, which he put away in a drawer. Itwas all arrant nonsense, anyhow; nothing could possibly happen; ifthere did, he would feel certain that he no longer dwelt in a realworkaday world. The idle whim of a sardonic old man; nothing more thanthat.

"Father, is the king dead?"

"Dead! What makes you ask that, Kit?"

"The past tense; you said he was, not is."

"Yes, he's dead, and the news came this morning. Hence, the yarn."

"Will there be any danger in returning?"

"My girl, whenever I pack my luggage there is danger. A cartridge maystick; a man may stumble; a man you rely on may fail you. As for that,there's always danger. It's the penalty of being alive."

On the way to the dining-room Kathlyn thought deeply. Why had herfather asked them if they loved him? Why did he speak of the Big Trek?There was something more than this glittering medal, something morethan this simple tale of bravery. What? Well, if he declin

"Him fella my brother belong me," was the answer. "Him fella dietoo much."

"You sing out, him fella brother belong you die too much," thewhite man went on in threatening tones. "I cross too much alongyou. What name you sing out, eh? You fat-head make um brotherbelong you die dose up too much. You fella finish sing out,savvee? You fella no finish sing out I make finish damn quick."

He threatened the wailer with his fist, and the black cowered down,glaring at him with sullen eyes.

"Sing out no good little bit," the white man went on, more gently."You no sing out. You chase um fella fly. Too much strong fellafly. You catch water, washee brother belong you; washee plenty toomuch, bime bye brother belong you all right. Jump!" he shoutedfiercely at the end, his will penetrating the low intelligence ofthe black with dynamic force that made him jump to the task ofbrushing the loathsome swarms of flies away.

Again he rode out into the reeking heat. He clutched the black'sneck ti

the harbour. Luckily, this nefarious design was discovered in time, and the bold navigator promptly hanged the pilot, and would also have sacked the town but for the timely submission and apologies of the Sultan. In the principal street of Mombasa -- appropriately called Vasco da Gama Street -- there still stands a curiously shaped pillar which is said to have been erected by this great seaman in commemoration of his visit.

Scarcely had the anchor been dropped, when, as if by magic, our vessel was surrounded by a fleet of small boats and "dug-outs" manned by crowds of shouting and gesticulating natives. After a short fight between some rival Swahili boatmen for my baggage and person, I found myself being vigorously rowed to the foot of the landing steps by the bahareen (sailors) who had been successful in the encounter. Now, my object in coming out to East Africa at this time was to take up a position to which I had been appointed by the Foreign Office on the construction staff of the Uganda Railway. A