'You know him and can trust him?' she asked.
'I have known him for a couple of years,' he replied, 'but I do not trust him. I do not trust any of them. Bobolo is doing this for a price. He is an avaricious old scoundrel.'
'What is the price?'
'Ivory.'
'But I have none.'
'Neither have I,' he admitted, 'but I'll get it.'
'I will pay you for my share,' she offered. 'I have money with an agent at rail-head.'
He laughed. 'Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, if we ever do.'
'That doesn't sound very reassuring.'
'We are in a bad hole,' he explained. 'We mustn't raise our hopes too high. Right now our only hope seems to lie in Bobolo. He is a Leopard Man and a scoundrel, in addition to which he is drunk-a slender hope at best.'
Bobolo, returning slightly sobered to the orgy, found himself suddenly frightened by what he had done. To bolster his waning courage he seized upon a large jug of beer and drained it. The contents exercised a magical effect upon Bobolo, for when presently his eyes fell upon a drunken priestess reeling in a corner she was transformed into a much-to-be-desired houri. An hour later Bobolo was fast asleep in the middle of the floor.
The effects of the native beer wore off almost as rapidly as they manifested themselves in its devotees, with the result that in a few hours the warriors commenced to bestir themselves. They were sick and their heads ached. They wished more beer; but when they demanded it they learned that there was no more, nor was there any food. They had consumed all the refreshments, liquid and solid.
Gato Mgungu had never had any of the advantages of civilization (He had never been to Hollywood ); but he knew what to do under the circumstances, for the psychology of celebrators is doubtless the same in Africa as elsewhere. When there is nothing more to eat or drink, it must be time to go home. Gato Mgungu gathered the other chiefs and transmitted this philosophical reflection to them. They agreed, Bobolo included. His brain was slightly befogged. He had already forgotten several events of the past evening, including the houri-like priestess. He knew that there was something important on his mind, but he could not recall just what it was; therefore he herded his men to their canoes just as the other chiefs and headmen were doing.
Presently he was headed down river, part of a long procession of war canoes filled with headaches. Back in the temple lay a few warriors who had still been too drunk to stand. For these they had left a single canoe. These men were strewn about the floor of the temple, asleep. Among them were all of the lesser priests and the priestesses. Imigeg was curled up on one corner of the dais fast asleep. The Leopard God, his belly filled, slept also.
Kali Bwana and Old Timer, waiting impatiently in the dark room at the rear of the temple for the return of Bobolo, had noted the increasing quiet in the front chamber of the building; then they had heard the preparations for departure as all but a few made ready to leave. They heard the shuffling of feet as the warriors passed out of the building; they heard the shouts and commands at the river bank that told the white man that the natives were launching their canoes. After that there had been silence.
'Bobolo ought to be coming along,' remarked the man.
'Perhaps he has gone away and left us,' suggested Kali Bwana.
They waited a little longer. Not a sound came from any part of the temple nor from the grounds outside. The silence of death reigned over the holy of holies of the Leopard God. Old Timer stirred uneasily. 'I am going to have a look out there,' he said. 'Perhaps Bobolo has gone, and if he has we want to know it.' He moved toward the doorway. 'I shall not be gone long,' he whispered. 'Do not be afraid.'
As the girl waited in the darkness her mind dwelt upon the man who had just left her. He seemed changed since the time of their first meeting. He appeared more solicitous as to her welfare and much less brusque and churlish. Yet she could not forget the harsh things he had said to her upon that other occasion. She could never forgive him, and in her heart she still half feared and mistrusted him. It galled her to reflect that in the event of their escape she would be under obligation to him, and as these thoughts occupied her mind Old Timer crept stealthily along the dark corridor toward the small doorway that opened upon the upper dais.
Only a suggestion of light came through it now to guide his footsteps, and when he reached it he looked out into an almost deserted room. The embers of the cooking fires were hidden by white ashes; only a single torch remained that had not burned out. Its smoky flame burned steadily in the quiet air, and in its feeble light he saw the sleepers sprawled upon the floor. In the dim light he could not distinguish the features of any; so he could not know if Bobolo were among them. One long searching look he gave that took in the whole interior of the chamber, a look that assured him that no single conscious person remained in the temple; then he turned and hastened back to the girl.
'Did you find him?' she asked.
'No. I doubt that he is here. Nearly all of them have left, except just a few who were too drunk to leave. I think it is our chance.'
'What do you mean?'
'There is no one to prevent our escaping. There may be no canoe. Bobolo told me that no canoe was ever left here, for fear that the priests or priestesses might escape. He may have been lying, but whether he was or not we may as well take the chance. There is no hope for either of us if we remain here. Even the crocodiles would be kinder to you than these fiends.'
'I will do whatever you say,' she replied, 'but if at any time I am a burden, if my presence might hinder your escape, do not consider me. Go on without me. Remember that you are under no obligation to me, nor-' She hesitated and stopped.
'Nor what?' he asked.
'Nor do I wish to be under obligation to you. I have not forgotten the things that you said to me when you came to my camp.'
He hesitated a moment before replying; then he ignored what she had said. 'Come!' he commanded brusquely. 'We have no time to waste.'
He walked to a window in the rear wall of the room and looked out. It was very dark. He could see nothing. He knew that the building was raised on piles and that the drop to the ground might prove dangerous; but he also knew that a verandah stretched along one side of the structure. Whether it continued around to the rear of the building where this room was located he could not know. To go out through the main room among all those savages was too fraught with risk. An alternative was to find their way to one of the rooms overlooking the verandah that he knew was there on the river side of the building.
'I think we'll try another room,' he whispered. 'Give me your hand, so that we shall not become separated.'
She slipped her hand into his. It was tender and warm. Once again the mad urge of his infatuation rose like a great tide within him, so that it was with difficulty that he controlled himself, yet by no sign did he betray his passion to the girl. Quietly they tiptoed into the dark corridor, the man groping with his free hand until he found a doorway. Gingerly they crossed the room beyond in search of a window.
What if this were the apartment of some temple inmate who had left the orgy to come here and sleep! The thought brought cold sweat to the man's brow, and he swore in his heart that he would slay any creature that put itself in the way of the rescue of the girl; but fortunately the apartment was uninhabited, and the two came to the window unchallenged. The man threw a leg over the sill, and a moment later stood upon the verandah beyond; then he reached in and assisted the girl to his side.
They were near the rear of the building. He dared not chance detection by going to the stairway that led to the ground from the front entrance to the temple. 'We shall have to climb down one of the piles that support the building,' he explained. 'It is possible that there may be a guard at the front entrance. Do you think that you can do it?'
'Certainly,' she replied.
'I'll go first,' he said. 'If you slip I'll try to hold you.'
'I shall not slip; go ahead.'
The verandah had no railing. He lay down and felt beneath its edge until he found the top of a pile. 'Here,' he whispered, and lowered himself over the edge.
The girl followed. He dropped a little lower and guided her legs until they had found a hold upon the pile,
