"You could if you happened to hit him," said the girl, "or the thing didn't jam. Really, I haven't much faith in an auto-matic. I have used them myself."
"Oh, of course," he said ironically, "an express rifle would be better, for who knows but we might meet an elephant here in the desert."The girl saw that he was hurt, and she was sorry, for she realized that there was nothing he would not do in her service or protection, and that it was through no fault of his that he was so illy armed. Doubtless, too, he realized as well as she the futility of his weapon, and that he had only called attention to it in the hope of reassuring her and lessening her anxiety.
"Forgive me," she said. "I did not mean to be nasty, but this accident is the proverbial last straw. It seems to me that I have borne all that I can. Though I was willing to give my life in the service of my country, I did not imagine that my death agonies would be so long drawn out, for I realize now that I have been dying for many weeks.""What do you mean!" he exclaimed; "what do you mean by that! You are not dying. There is nothing the matter with you.""Oh, not that," she said, "I did not mean that. What I mean is that at the moment the black sergeant, Usanga, and his rene-gade German native troops captured me and brought me in-land, my death warrant was signed. Sometimes I have imagined that a reprieve has been granted. Sometimes I have hoped that I might be upon the verge of winning a full pardon, but really in the depths of my heart I have known that I should never live to regain civilization. I have done my bit for my country, and though it was not much I can at least go with the realization that it was the best I was able to offer. All that Ican hope for now, all that I ask for, is a speedy fulfillment of the death sentence. I do not wish to linger any more to face constant terror and apprehension. Even physical torture would be preferable to what I have passed through. I have no doubt that you consider me a brave woman, but really my terror has been boundless. The cries of the carnivores at night fill me with a dread so tangible that I am in actual pain. I feel the rending talons in my flesh and the cruel fangs munching upon my bones -- it is as real to me as though I were actually enduring the horrors of such a death. I doubt if you can under-stand it -- men are so different."
"Yes," he said, "I think I can understand it, and because Iunderstand I can appreciate more than you imagine the hero-ism you have shown in your endurance of all that you have passed through. There can be no bravery where there is no fear. A child might walk into a lion's den, but it would take a very brave man to go to its rescue.""Thank you," she said, "but I am not brave at all, and now I am very much ashamed of my thoughtlessness for your own feelings. I will try and take a new grip upon myself and we will both hope for the best. I will help you all I can if you will tell me what I may do.""The first thing," he replied, "is to find out just how serious our damage is, and then to see what we can do in the way of repairs."For two days Smith-Oldwick worked upon the damaged plane -- worked in the face of the fact that from the first he realized the case was hopeless. And at last he told her.
'I knew it," she said, "but I believe that I felt much as you must have; that however futile our efforts here might be, it would be infinitely as fatal to attempt to retrace our way to the jungle we just left or to go on toward the coast. You know and I know that we could not reach the Tanga railway on foot.
We should die of thirst and starvation before we had covered half the distance, and if we return to the jungle, even were we able to reach it, it would be but to court an equally certain, though different, fate.""So we might as well sit here and wait for death as to use-lessly waste our energies in what we know would be a futile attempt at escape?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "I shall never give up like that. What Imeant was that it was useless to attempt to reach either of the places where we know that there is food and water in abun-dance, so we must strike out in a new direction. Somewhere there may be water in this wilderness and if there is, the best chance of our finding it would be to follow this gorge down-ward. We have enough food and water left, if we are careful of it, for a couple of days and in that time we might stumble upon a spring or possibly even reach the fertile country which I know lies to the south. When Usanga brought me to the Wamabo country from the coast he took a southerly route along which there was usually water and game in plenty. It was not until we neared our destination that the country be-came overrun with carnivores. So there is hope if we can reach the fertile country south of us that we can manage to pull through to the coast."The man shook his head dubiously. "We can try it," he said.
"Personally, I do not fancy sitting here waiting for death."Smith-Oldwick was leaning against the ship, his dejected gaze directed upon the ground at his feet. The girl was looking south down the gorge in the direction of their one slender chance of life. Suddenly she touched him on the arm.
"Look," she whispered.
The man raised his eyes quickly in the direction of her gaze to see the massive head of a great lion who was regarding them from beyond a rocky projection at the first turning of the gorge.
"Phew!" he exclaimed, "the beggars are everywhere.""They do not go far from water do they," asked the girl hopefully.
"I should imagine not," he replied; "a lion is not particularly strong on endurance.""Then he is a harbinger of hope," she exclaimed.
The man laughed. "Cute little harbinger of hope!" he said.
"Reminds me of Cock Robin heralding spring."The girl cast a quick glance at him. "Don't be silly, and Idon't care if you do laugh. He fills me with hope.""It is probably mutual," replied Smith-Oldwick, "as we doubtless fill him with hope."The lion evidently having satisfied himself as to the nature of the creatures before him advanced slowly now in their di-rection.
