At this unexpected attitude of acquiescence upon Esteban’s part the others were greatly relieved, and immediately the entire atmosphere of constraint was removed.
“You’re a good fellow, Esteban,” said Peebles. “I’ve been sayin’ right along that you’d want to do the right thing, and I want to say that I’m mighty glad to see you back here safe an’ sound. I felt terrible when I ’eard you was croaked, that I did.”
“Yes,” said Bluber, “John he feel so bad he cry himself to sleep every night, ain’t it, John?”
“Don’t try to start nothin’, Bluber,” growled Peebles, glaring at the Jew.
“I vasn’t commencing to start nodding,” replied Adolph, seeing that the big Englishman was angry; “of course ve vere all sorry dat ve t’ought Esteban was killed und ve is all glad dot he is back.”
“And that he don’t want any of the swag,” added Throck.
“Don’t worry,” said Esteban, “If I get back to London I’ll be happy enough—I’ve had enough of Africa to last me all the rest of my life.”
Before he could get to sleep that night, the Spaniard spent a wakeful hour or two trying to evolve a plan whereby he might secure the gold absolutely to himself, without fear of its being removed by the Waziri later. He knew that he could easily find the spot where he had buried it and remove it to another close by, provided that he could return immediately over the trail along which Usula had led them that day, and he could do this alone, insuring that no one but himself would know the new location of the hiding place of the gold, but he was equally positive that he could never again return later from the coast and find where he had hidden it. This meant that he must share his secret with another—one familiar with the country who could find the spot again at any time and from any direction. But who was there whom he might trust! In his mind he went carefully over the entire personnel of their safari, and continually his mind reverted to a single individual—Owaza. He had no confidence in the wily old scoundrel’s integrity, but there was no other who suited his purpose as well, and finally he was forced to the conclusion that he must share his secret with this black, and depend upon avarice rather than honor for his protection. He could repay the fellow well—make him rich beyond his wildest dreams, and this the Spaniard could well afford to do in view of the tremendous fortune at stake. And so he fell asleep dreaming of what gold, to the value of over a quarter of a million pounds sterling, would accomplish in the gay capitals of the world.
The following morning while they were breakfasting Esteban mentioned casually that he had passed a large herd of antelope not far from their camp the previous day, and suggested that he take four or five men and do a little hunting, joining the balance of the party at camp that night. No one raised any objection, possibly for the reason that they assumed that the more he hunted and the further from the safari he went the greater the chances of his being killed, a contingency that none of them would have regretted, since at heart they had neither liking nor trust for him.
“I will take Owaza,” he said. “He is the cleverest hunter of them all, and five or six men of his choosing.” But later, when he approached Owaza, the black interposed objections to the hunt.
“We have plenty of meat for two days,” he said. “Let us go on as fast as we can, away from the land of the Waziri and Tarzan. I can find plenty of game anywhere between here and the coast. March for two days, and then I will hunt with you.”
“Listen,” said Esteban, in a whisper. “It is more than antelope that I would hunt. I cannot tell you here in camp, but when we have left the others I will explain. It will pay you better to come with me today than all the ivory you can hope to get from the raiders.” Owaza cocked an attentive ear and scratched his woolly head.
“It is a good day to hunt, Bwana,” he said. “I will come with you and bring five boys.”
After Owaza had planned the march for the main party and arranged for the camping place for the night, so that he and the Spaniard could find them again, the hunting party set out upon the trail that Usula had followed from the buried treasure the preceding day. They had not gone far before Owaza discovered the fresh spoor of the Waziri.
“Many men passed here late yesterday,” he said to Esteban, eyeing the Spaniard quizzically.
“I saw nothing of them,” replied the latter. “They must have come this way after I passed.”
“They came almost to our camp, and then they turned about and went away again,” said Owaza. “Listen, Bwana, I carry a rifle and you shall march ahead of me. If these tracks were made by your people, and you are leading me into ambush, you shall be the first to die.”
“Listen, Owaza,” said Esteban, “we are far enough from camp now so that I may tell you all. These tracks were made by the Waziri of Tarzan of the Apes, who buried the gold for me a day’s march from here. I have sent them home, and I wish you to go back with me and move the gold to another hiding place. After these others have gotten their ivory and returned to England, you and I will come back and get the gold, and then, indeed, shall you be well rewarded.”
“Who are you, then?” asked Owaza. “Often have I doubted that you are Tarzan of the Apes. The day that we left the camp outside of Opar one of my men told me that you had
