She watched his face continually when she could without
being observed. Tantalizingly the placing of his familiar features
persisted in eluding her. Where had she known him? Under what
conditions had they met before she had seen him about the farm of
Bwana? She ran over in her mind all the few white men she ever had
known. There were some who had come to her father's douar in the
jungle. Few it is true, but there had been some. Ah, now she had
it! She had seen him there! She almost seized upon his identity
and then in an instant, it had slipped from her again.
It was mid afternoon when they suddenly broke out of the jungle upon
the banks of a broad and placid river. Beyond, upon the opposite
shore, Meriem described a camp surrounded by a high, thorn boma.
"Here we are at last," said Hanson. He drew his revolver and fired
in the air. Instantly the camp across the river was astir. Black
men ran down the river's bank. Hanson hailed them. But there was
no sign of the Hon. Morison Baynes.
In accordance with their master's instructions the blacks manned a
canoe and rowed across.
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