s
far as outward appearance went.

The boma, or fort, was down by the water-front and its high eastern
wall, pierced by only one gate, formed one boundary of the drill-ground
that was also township square. Facing the wall on the eastern side of
the square was a row of Indian and Arab stores. At the north end was
the market building--an enormous structure of round stucco pillars
supporting a great grass roof; and facing that at the southern end
were the court-house, the hospital, and a store owned by the Deutch
Oest Africa Gesellschaft, known far and wide by its initials--a concern
that owned the practical monopoly of wholesale import and export trade,
and did a retail business, too.

We went first to the hospital. Fred and Will lifted me out of the
hammock, for my wound had grown much worse during the last few days,
and the door being shut they set me down on the step. Then we sent
Kazimoto into the fort with a note to the senior officer informing him
that a European waited at the hospital in need of prompt medical
treatment.

The sentry admitted Kazimoto readily enough, but he did not come out
again for half-an-hour, and then looked glum.

"Habanah!" he said simply, using the all-embracing native negative.

"Isn't any one in there?" we demanded all together.

"Surely."

"How many?"

"Very many."

"Officers?"

He nodded.

"Is a doctor there?"

He told us he had asked for the doctor. A soldier had pointed him out.
He had placed the note in the doctor's hand.

"Did he read it?" we asked.

"Surely. He read it, and then showed it to the other officers."

"What did they say?"

"They laughed and said nothing."

It seemed pretty obvious that Kazimoto had made a mistake in some way.
Perhaps he had visited the non-commissioned officers' mess.

"I'll go myself," announced Will. "I can sling the German language like
a barkeep. Bet you I'm back here with a doctor inside of three
minutes!"

He strode off like Sir Galahad in football shorts, and was passed
through the gate by the sentry almost unchallenged. But he was gone
more than fifteen minutes, and came back at last with his ears crimson.
Nor would he answer our questions.

"Shall I go?" suggested Fred.

"Not unless you like insolence! We passed the camping-ground, it
seems, on our way in. We've leave to pitch tents there. We'd better
be moving."

So we trailed back the way we had come to a triangular sandy space
enclosed by a cactus