'He might have feigned that,' said Sborov.
'Was the prince asleep when you went in there, Tibbs, to awaken Brown?'
'He seemed to be sound asleep, Milady. I carried a burning brand in for a torch. I could see them quite distinctly.'
'He was asleep, and I was pretendin' to be, I suppose,' said Brown.
'Find the hatchet,' said Sborov.
'Well, suppose you find it,' retorted Brown. 'I don't know where it is.'
'Tibbs says that both of you were asleep. That leaves Tibbs and Annette and me under suspicion,' said Jane.
'There ain't no sense to that way of figuring,' said Brown. 'We all know that you and Annette didn't have nothin' to do with it; so you two are out. I know damned well that I didn't do it, and I'm just about as sure that Tibbs didn't; so that puts it up to the only one in the bunch that would profit by the old woman's death.'
'You'd profit as much as any of us,' pointed out Sborov, sullenly. 'You knew that your life was at stake, that if you didn't get out of here very soon you might never get out. You knew and you said that my wife was all that made it impossible for us to start together tomorrow. I can see your whole line of reasoning, my man. You felt that the princess could never get out of here, anyway; and so you just hurried matters along by killing her yourself.'
'All right, Sherlock Holmes, you've got it all figured out, haven't you? But what are you going to do about it?'
'Find the hatchet,' repeated Sborov.
'All right,' said Jane. 'You men go in the women's part of the shelter and search, and Annette and I will search your part.'
Sborov followed Jane to the door of the men's hut. 'I cannot go in there where she is,' he said, 'I want to remember her as she was when I last saw her—alive.'
Jane nodded. 'Help us search here, then,' she said.
There was really no place to search except among the litter of grasses that the men had used as beds.
Jane searched the pile upon which Alexis had slept, while Alexis took Tibbs' and Annette poked around in those belonging to Brown. Presently the girl's hand came into contact with something cold and hard. She stiffened as her fingers touched it, as though by intuition she knew what it was. With a shudder she withdrew her hand. For a moment she remained very quiet and tense. She was thinking rapidly. Then she arose to her feet. 'There is nothing here,' she said.
Sborov glanced up at her quickly. 'There is nothing here, either,' said Jane.
'I can find nothing in Tibbs' bed,' said Alexis; 'but perhaps, Annette, you did not search Brown's bed carefully enough. Let me see.'
She took a step toward him as though to prevent the search. 'What is the use?' she said. 'It is not there; it's just a waste of time to look again.'
'Nevertheless, I shall look,' said Alexis.
Sborov stooped and slipped his hand in among the grasses. He did not have to search long. 'Here it is,' he said. 'I don't see how you could have missed it, Annette,' he added, with a sneer. 'You must have had your own reasons.'
He withdrew the hatchet from among the grasses and held it up to their view. The head was smeared with blood.
'Are you satisfied now, Jane?' demanded the prince.
'I can't believe it of Brown,' she said.
'But you could have believed it of me?'
'Frankly, Alexis, yes.'
'Well, you've got plenty of proof now as to who did it. What are you going to do about it? The fellow ought to be destroyed.'
'Who ought to be destroyed?' demanded Brown. He and Tibbs were standing in the doorway.
'The hatchet was found in your bed, Brown,' said Jane. 'The prince has it; as you can see, it is covered with blood.'
'Oh, so you planted that thing in my bed, did you, you lousy little runt? Trying to frame me, eh?'
'I do not understand your talk,' said Alexis. 'I only know what I heard you say last night and what I found in your bed. Tibbs has already corroborated my report of what you said, and Lady Greystoke and Annette saw me find the hatchet in here right where you had hidden it.'
Brown looked from one to another with a questioning expression in his eyes. Could it be that these people believed that he had done this thing? He realized that what slender evidence was at hand pointed to him.
'Well,' he said, 'don't get it into your heads that you're going to hang me.'
Chapter 13 Treachery
THE little band of Waziri warriors under Muviro had moved steadily westward since their encounter with Tarzan. The ten moved silently along a winding jungle trail; there was no song nor laughter; and when they spoke, which was seldom, their tones were low, for they were in a country strange to them, with the temper of whose people they were not familiar. They moved warily, every sense alert.
Some time during this day they hoped to contact the Bukena, the people who lived nearest to the Kavuru; and here they hoped to have word of Tarzan of the Apes.
Presently, above the subdued noises of the jungle, they heard the excited chattering of a monkey above them; and a moment later a familiar little figure swung downward through the trees.
'It is Nkima,' said Muviro. 'The big bwana must be near.'
Little Nkima jabbered with excitement. He leaped to the shoulder of Muviro and jumped up and down, screaming and chattering. He leaped to the ground and ran ahead very fast, jabbering excitedly in his high, little voice, as he continually looked back at them. He would run ahead until a bend in the trail threatened to hide them from his view; then he would run back and tug at Muviro's legs before starting off again at great speed.
'Something is wrong,' said one of the warriors to Mu-viro. 'Little Nkima is trying to tell us.'
'He wants us to hurry,' said Muviro; 'perhaps something has happened to the big bwana.' Then he broke into a trot, his fellows following close behind; but still Nkima ran ahead always urging them to greater speed.
Members of a warrior clan that is trained from childhood in feats of endurance, the Waziri could maintain for hour after hour a pace that would soon exhaust an ordinary man.
Then smooth, ebony bodies glistening with sweat, their broad chests rising and falling to their unhurried breathing, their supple muscles rolling easily, they presented a splendid picture of primitive savagery, to which a note of barbaric color was added by anklets and armlets of strange design, their weapons, their shields, and the flowing white plumes that surmounted their heads.
Here, indeed, were men, the very sight of whom would have instilled respect, and perhaps fear, in the hearts of any strange tribesmen who might see them.
And thus it was, when breaking from the jungle into a clearing, little Nkima still in the lead, they burst upon the view of a score of women working in the fields before the village of Udalo , chief of the Bukena.
With terrified cries of warning, the women fled for the village gate.
Bukena warriors inside the kraal seized their weapons and ran to meet their women; and as the rearmost of the latter entered the village, the warriors made haste to close the gate behind them; and as some attended the gate, others manned the barbette inside the palisade over the top of which they could loose their arrows upon an enemy.
At the sight of the village and the fleeing women, Muviro had halted his warriors. He saw the hostile attitude of the Bukena, but he attributed it to the fact that they did not know whether he came in peace or war.
Nkima was very much excited. He waved his hands and jabbered loudly; he was trying so hard to make them understand that his master was a captive in the village. It was always a mystery to Nkima that these gomangani could not understand him. It seemed that no one could understand him except his cousins, brothers, and sisters,
