er we were going, and that to return alone, without the stores
which we must abandon, through the country of the bushmen to Mazituland,
would also be a risky proceeding. However, it was for him to decide.

Now he grew much perturbed. Taking me apart again he dwelt earnestly
upon his secret reasons for wishing to visit these Kendah, with which of
course I was already acquainted, as indeed was Savage.

"I desire to stay here," he ended.

"Which means that we must all stay, Ragnall, since Savage will not
desert you. Nor will Hans desert me although he thinks us mad. He points
out that I came to seek ivory and here about is ivory in plenty for the
trouble of taking."

"I might remain alone, Quatermain----" he began, but I looked at him in
such a way that he never finished the sentence.

Ultimately we came to a compromise. Babemba, on behalf of the Mazitu,
agreed to wait three more days. If nothing happened during that period
we on our part agreed to return with them to a stretch of well-watered
bush about fifty miles behind us, which we knew swarmed with elephants,
that by now were growing shy of approaching our oasis where there was so
much noise and shooting. There we would kill as much ivory as we could
carry, an operation in which they were willing to assist for the fun of
it, and then go back with them to Mazituland.

The three days went by and with every hour that passed my spirits rose,
as did those of Savage and Hans, while Lord Ragnall became more and
more depressed. The third afternoon was devoted to a jubilant packing of
loads, for in accordance with the terms of our bargain we were to start
backwards on our spoor at dawn upon the morrow. Most happily did I lay
myself down to sleep in my little bough shelter that night, feeling that
at last I was rid of an uncommonly awkward adventure. If I thought that
we could do any good by staying on, it would have been another matter.
But as I was certain that there was no earthly chance of our finding
among the Kendah--if ever we reached them--the lady who had tumbled in
the Nile in Egypt, well, I was glad that Providence had been so good as
to make it impossible for us to commit suicide by thirst in a desert, or
otherwise. For, notwithstanding my former reasonings to the contrary,
I was now convinced that this was what had happened to poor Ragnall's
wife.

That, however, was just what Providence had not done. In the middle of
the night, to be precise, at exactly two