ould unlock their understanding.

Presently, under the eyes of all of them, Fred got out the rifle from
its wrappings and proceeded to clean and oil it carefully, as every
genuine hunter should before he sleeps.

Then it was evident at once that new hope for some reason had been born
among that silent crowd. The chief, uninvited, drew nearer and watched
every detail of Fred's husbandry with glittering eye.

"Give him the oily rag to suck!" suggested Brown, but that proved not
to be the key to his interest, for he thrust the rag back into Fred's
hand and motioned to him to continue cleaning.

Finally Fred examined the last handful of cartridges carefully one by
one, and filled the magazine. Then, after making sure the sights were
in order, he began to wrap the rifle again.

But at that the chief held out a lean long arm and stopped him.
Coutlass sprang to his feet in a hurry, imagining that was a signal to
attack at last, but Fred ordered him to sit down, and Lady Waldon, who
seemed possessed for the once by uncanny calmness, asked him to give
her an arm to the dhow, where she proposed to try to sleep. Coutlass
felt flattered, and obeyed. The maid got up and followed them both in
a fury of jealousy, and they three were lost to view in a moment among
the shadows cast by our four flickering fires. The other Greek got up
and followed them, leaving the Goanese already snoozing by the fire.

Then, just as the half of a brilliantly pale moon rose above the
papyrus, the chief came a pace nearer and touched Fred's hand. Then he
beckoned. Then he touched the hand again and retreated backward.
Glancing around I saw the shadows that were his tribe leaning toward us
in strained attention, with eyes for nothing but their chief and Fred.
Understanding there was something that the chief desired him to go and
do, Fred passed the rifle to Will and rose to his feet.

With patience that was simply pathetic the chief shook his head and
tried to explain something in weary-motioned pantomime. Fred took the
rifle back from Will. The chief nodded. Fred started to follow him,
and then the whole tribe sighed, with a sound like the evening wind
rustling through the papyrus.

It being clear now that he was to shoot something, Fred took the
wrappings off the rifle, threw them to me, and walked into the dark,
the chief trotting ahead like a phantom and glancing back to beckon
about once a minute. Not caring to miss the play, we fol