Chapter 15

might get the gold fever, but I guess you're pretty safe. I was talking to von Hofe about it yesterday. Now, you know that we're paid by him to get elephant and nothing else. Still, the old boy is a sport clear through, and underneath his German reserve he's just as eager as any of us. If we strike the island before we strike the elephant, we'll camp on it for safety and clear out the cache."

"Hurray!" exclaimed Charlie. "Bully for him! Say, we'll--"

"You wait, Chuck," interrupted Jack quickly. "Look here, Gen'ral, it ain't so simple. Those Arabs with the camels got clear away. Selim ben Amoud ain't a man to let Mowbray stick alone down here, not by a jugfull. I'll bet you that we'll find a bunch of Selim's men there with Selim himself. He was no slouch, that guy."

Schoverling's face clouded. "You've struck the nail on the head, Jack. That thought occurred to me also. Well, if he's there then we'll have to keep away and stick to the rogue. But if we get there first--by thunder, I'll load that cache into the wagon and get out with the elephant!"

"Still, in a way it belongs to him--" began Charlie, but the explorer grunted.

"Rot! His expedition lost out. Mowbray directed his letter to me or Selim, and said nothing about splitting up. Whoever gets there first lands the loot, that's flat. If it belonged to anyone, it belonged to the original bunch of slavers. However, we're counting our chickens a long while before the incubator's opened. When we get there it's time enough."

To this there was no answer. That night, sure enough, Charlie was glad that he had kept the big fires blazing high, for herds crowded about in vain endeavors to get at the water-hole, even pressing up to the thorn zareba, until the boy had to scatter burning brands among the quantities of eland and antelope and zebra, not wishing to shoot them. Two of the steel traps caught, however; one a slinking jackal and the other a fine oryx, both of which Charlie reluctantly shot with the small rifle belonging to the doctor.

In the morning Amir Ali reported that lions had been about, but they had made no disturbance, and the safari took up its advance soon after sun-up. At the noon halt they were still winding through the valley, but in the afternoon this opened out into open country once more. Jack had his glasses out and gave a yell of delight.

"There's the lake! Dead ahead!"

Even without the aid of glasses they could all see the shimmer of water in the sun, three miles ahead. The Masai gave a yell of joy at the news that they had nearly reached the end of their journey, but they could not hope to get up to the lake until evening with the slow-moving oxen. So, leaving the doctor and the Indians to defend the wagon if need were, Schoverling and his two assistants rode slowly onward to have a look at things and pick out a suitable place for the night's camp.

In half an hour they were standing on a slight rise that sloped down gently to the waters of the lake. These were thickly cloaked with reeds, but there was no sign of the high jets of hot water of Selim's story on the _Mombasa_.

"See that steam up at the other end of the lake?" said Schoverling, looking through his glasses. "That's where the hot springs are, no doubt."

"There's the island," cried Jack excitedly, who had moved a hundred feet away. Joining him, the others were now able to see a low island which had been hidden by intervening trees. It lay barely half a mile beyond them, and seemed almost a part of the shore. Beyond this the trees seemed to get thicker, while across the lake itself the green and brown hills rose to the height of a few hundred feet. In fact, hills seemed to be all around them, save to the south.

"Shouldn't wonder if this was one of the craters of an old volcano," declared the General.

"The ground has risen slightly, since we left the wagon, and those hills all around would indicate such a thing, as would the steaming hot springs up at the other end. Well, we can ride forward to the island. Mowbray's camp must be there somewhere."

Keeping a wary eye open for any danger, they rode on until they arrived opposite the island. Here, under a group of spreading mimosas, they saw vague signs of an old camp. All was overgrown with vegetation, but as they rode down to it the indications of a camp were clear.

"There are tattered old tents, all right," exclaimed Charlie in huge excitement. "But animals and the weather have covered things up pretty well."

Arriving on the spot, they leaped from their saddles and kicked away vines.

"Here's a gun-butt," shouted Jack, holding up a moulded fragment of wood. "And here's the rest of it--an elephant gun."

Schoverling took the pieces and fitted them together. The barrels were twisted and bent, the stock splintered. Rubbing the latter clear of mould, something gleamed in the sun and he uttered an exclamation.

"Mowbray's! Got his name on a silver plate. Well, that's worth keeping as a trophy, boys. Now about camp. This was a mighty poor place for him to land, but he wasn't expecting overgrown buffalo and pythons. There's a little rise behind, where we can camp for to-night, but to-morrow we'll try to get across to the island. That will be a whole lot safer from his majesty the rogue."

"Jumping sandhills, I forgot!" cried Charlie suddenly. "Say, General, we've beat the Arabs back, that's a cinch!"