"Can you and I, alone, reach his camp?" asked the Hon. Morison.
"Yes, Bwana," assured the black.
Baynes turned toward the head-man. He was conversant with "Hanson's"
plans now. He understood why he had wished to move the northern
camp as far as possible toward the northern boundary of the Big
Bwana's country--it would give him far more time to make his escape
toward the West Coast while the Big Bwana was chasing the northern
contingent. Well, he would utilize the man's plans to his own end.
He, too, must keep out of the clutches of his host.
"You may take the men north as fast as possible," he said to the
head-man. "I shall return and attempt to lead the Big Bwana to
the west."
The Negro assented with a grunt. He had no desire to follow this
strange white man who was afraid at night; he had less to remain
at the tender mercies of the Big Bwana's lusty warriors, between
whom and his people there was long-standing blood feud; and he was
more than delighted, into the bargain, for a legitimate excuse for
deserting his much hated Swede master. He knew a way to the north
and his own country that the white men did not know--a short cut
across an arid plateau where lay water holes of which the white
hunters and explorers that had passed from time to time the fringe
of the dry country had never dreamed.
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