hern tribes
are either pagan or profess Islam and for that reason secretly favor
the Mahdi,--No, you will not get through that way."

"Well, what am I to do, and where shall I go with Nell?" Stas asked.

"I told you that your situation is extremely difficult," Linde said.

Saying this he put both hands to his head and for a long time lay in
silence.

"The ocean," he finally said, "is over five hundred and sixty miles
from here; you would have to cross mountains, go among savage peoples,
and even pass over deserts, for it is probable that there are waterless
localities. But the country nominally belongs to England. You might
chance upon transports of ivory to Kismayu, to Lamu and
Mombasa--perhaps upon missionary expeditions. Realizing that on account
of the dervishes I would not be able to explore the course of this
river because it turns to the Nile, I, too, wanted to go eastward to
the ocean."

"Then we shall return together," Stas exclaimed.

"I shall never return. The wart-hog has so badly torn my muscles and
veins that an infection of the blood must set in. Only a surgeon could
save me by amputating my leg. Now everything has coagulated and become
numb, but during the first days I bit my hands from pain--"

"You surely will get well."

"No, my brave lad, I surely will die and you will cover me well with
stones, so that the hyenas cannot dig me out. To the dead it may be all
the same, but during life it is unpleasant to think of it. It is hard
to die so far away from your own--"

Here his eyes were dimmed as though with a mist, after which he
continued thus:

"But I already have become resigned to the idea--so let us speak about
you, not about me. I will give you this advice. There remains for you
only the road to the east, to the ocean. But take a good rest before
starting and gain strength, otherwise your little companion will die in
the course of a few weeks. Postpone the journey until the end of the
rainy season, and even longer. The first summer months, when the rain
ceases to fall and the water still covers the marshes, are the
healthiest. Here, where we are, is a plateau lying about twenty-two
hundred and eighty-nine feet above the sea. At the height of forty-two
hundred and fifty feet the fever does not exist and when brought from
the lower places its course is weaker. Take the little English girl up
into the mountains."

Talking apparently fatigued him very much, so he again broke off and
for